Poem: sky & hill

Preface: I wanted to experiment with a sort of weird surrealism, and telling more of a concrete narrative in my poems.  (I also can't think of what to call this. I originally was going to call it by the first line, but then though that would ruin the punch of the first line.  I don't want to call it "sky & hill" because it sounds like its some sort of myth/origin story about the sky and hills.)

"sky & hill"

Hilltop death

the closest place to the sky

pours over the globe

in its thick, blue paint.

I can taste the acrylic

like salt on my lips.

Only the breeze under my lashes

and the great, blue, nothing

And one small shape.

Far away,

a smoky flaw in the horizon.

In buttercups and star-shaped bells

time passes

the creaks of insect legs

and grass falling

under the kissing blue

My shape has become a palm,

pushing toward me out of that blue

soaring close

over great space 

A thick, wallpaper arm

molton, blue, bending

into a shoulder

a neck

a torso

Pulling the sky to the hill 

in an endless skin.

blue jewel lips part

opening its huge mouth

and engulf my face, then my head like a diadem,

swallowing,

leaving me at last with only the

recollection of the bristling wolf-hair on its shoulders.

Songs this week.

Sometimes I can't concentrate.  A bit of noise helps.  Music also helps you get your mind off how boring your life is and how your job is lousy.  It also prevents you from dwelling on how much you hate New Jersey drivers when you are stuck in completely unnecessary traffic.

For a complete pop immersion:
Primadonna
I love Marina and the Diamonds.

For when you are really mad at how everyone else is ruining your life, and want to celebrate how awesome you are:
Do My Thing
Um.  Self-explanatory.  Just listen.

Always, apparently:
High Hopes
I've been randomly addicted to Paolo Nutini.  Seriously listening to him non-stop, waiting to get sick of him, and not getting sick of him.  This song cheers me up loads.

I know, he looks like he is doubling over in agony when he sings, but whatever.  It seems to work really well.

And just to give you an overdose, I love driving to this song.  I feel like I'm in the opening of an indie movie.

For a maniacal laugh:
Bird Song
I know its a little macabre and freaky, but I love this song so much.  I think the story she tells is so funny.  The stupid, power-tripping bird sure gets what's coming to him. And then she does too.  Suckers!

When you are not paying attention:
Out on the Town
I had fun. on in the background and suddenly realized that this song was growing on me.

When you are doing work schedules for your students/have been poisoned by Lana Del Rey:
Dreamy Old New England Moon
I was listening to Lana Del Rey while doing some confusing scheduling and it made me really stressed out and unexpectedly wiggy.  So I prescribed myself some smooth, calming Dean Martin.

To unwind:
Sweet Bride
I keep hearing Kate Rusby on soundtracks in small British films and tv shows and I really love her.  So far my favorite has been "Sweet Bride."  I have yet to listen to her most well-known album, Awkward Annie.

For crying:
The Unquiet Grave
Rusby again: "The Unquiet Grave" is tragic and great from when you are emotionally unstable and may make you unexpectedly burst into tears.

To just be happy:
Oh Boy
That last one is a bit of a downer, so I've also been listening to cheery "Oh Boy" by She & Him.

Come On Get Crafty: Spackle & Shine

I was messing around with some nail polish and it reminded me of the way decaying walls in old, abandonded houses look.  Residue from wallpaper, plaster crumbling.

But the bright, flamboyant silver reminded me of decadence, flashy music, and glamourous black and white movies, so I added the magazine cut out and the rhinestones.

I just wish it was one of those cards that played music, so it could play a creepy, faint, echo of Puttin' On the Ritz.

Come On Get Crafty: Strawberry Spring Explosion

I finally made a new card last week!  I haven't had time to do much creativity lately, but I got a new lipstick last weekend which got me goofing around with silly colors.

The scan doesn't really do the colors justice (there is definitely some blue going on that you can't see at all), but here's the latest:

Poem: the moon walks

Preface: I seem to be developing a thing for the moon.

"the moon walks"

the moon 

cut into the canopy

by the teeth of the gods

audacious it soldiers above us

daring to soar

sail boats

over our blue eyelids

and down the gleam on our hair

combed down backs of heads

it hums brazen

a laughing stamp of hope

walk

moon-proud

alive as rock

turn turn turn

and it is an etching

watching the

paper yellow trees
shine

sing

joy

and

crawl

Friends w/ Skillzzz

In my bid to revitalize my blog after neglecting it for two months I am going to cheat and spend a post praising my friends.

I am some friends with some pretty cool skills.  Some of them are wonderful artist, whether professionally or as hobbyists.  Some of them are comedians and actors in plays in NYC and Chicago.  Many of them work behind the scenes on documentaries, films, and webisodes.

Here I will celebrate a few of them whose exploits I happen to have at my finger tips.

1.  My awesome college roommate is an all-together sweet and kind person, fantastico student & friend (who tolerates my wackiness with glorious patience and grace), and is in the process of applying to med school to become a psychiatrist.  But she also dabbles in painting and gave me this groovy, zany, personalized painting-- one of the best presents I've ever received--- for Christmas!  (P.S. I love butterflies!)

2.  I think of my friend Heidi Celeghin as my debonair artist friend.  Because she is super smart, understands WAY more of art theory and technique than I do, and she is making her way as an artist and art instructor--- which is SO COOL!  Here is one of my favorite of her paintings:

She also drew Guy Pearce for Interview Magazine.  So you know she is pretty awesome. (Also check out her writing, especially Fish Food.)

3.  My friend Ania guest posted a while back.  She has some serious photography skills that I wish I had. 

I especially love her nature photography.























Oh yeah, and she also does all this cool photography while doing an MD/PHD. Crazy, amazing gal!

4.  Comedian Zack Mast is a pretty funny guy.  He writes lots of funny stuff but two of my favorites are his review of lobster and his review of Tower Heist (spoiler: he didn't like it).  I also love his more observational pieces (can't find the links at the moment . . . blogger fail.)

5.  One of my friends, Linda, works on this webseries: Dating Rules from My Future Self.  The episodes are only minutes long but still entertaining, funny, and unexpectedly plot-packed!  So no excuse not to check it out.

So yeah, my friends have super skillzzzz.

In the Papier: Very British, Very Fun

I tried to resist this box set from Barnes & Noble (published by teNeues), and I succeeded for a while.  But eventually the world re-aligned and I used my one frivolous stationary purchase/month (one of my New Years Resolutions).





































I love how iconic they are in so many ways.  And full of not-stuffy nostalgia.  And generally, lots of fun.





































These Tula Moon cards feature the work of artist Steph Dekker, a designer and jewellery maker from Liverpool, who loves the colours, patterns, fabrics, quits and crafts from the 50s, 60s, and 70s (according to the box).

Poem: tailgater

I do a lot of mental writing when I am driving.  Sometimes its the landscape or the 'alone-time' but mostly when I am driving, I know I have a captive chunk of time when it's ok to let my mind wander.  If I'm driving and musing and playing with words, I'm not procrastinating! I'm commuting!  I find it hard to make time to do creative things when I'm home because all I can think about is all the OTHER things I'm meant to be doing with my time instead.  So I'm learning to really embrace the bouts of creativity I experience when driving (although writing things down can get tricky, and pretty sloppy).

Here is a piece I put together from a bunch of recent-ish snippets I came up with while driving.  While it is a poem about driving, I don't put that all down to the fact that I was driving when I was throwing these phrases and stanzas around--- in general, I really gravitate towards stories and metaphors that pivot around images and sensations of driving, journeying, escaping or being 'in transit' versus traveling or heading to a destination.  So many of my random story/scene ideas seem to be about people driving, but not necessarily going anyplace of any particular relevance. Or are they?

Anyways: Here's "Tailgater."  It doesn't flow well and lacks focus right now.  I'm thinking of changing the title to something like: Ballad of a Tailgater or Message from a Tailgater, but I haven't found on the right combination that matches the mood of the poem.


"Tailgater"

Tailgater shines
headlight teeth.
A light at the end of the tunnel.
bright, dead destiny. wall.

I’m driving home to keep off someone’s loneliness.
That’s all I am.

I think:
he wants me to kill myself
I’m here to make way for his meaningless need
it eats up the black tunnel of space
--- cancerous mouth.

I plunge through the cake batter.
Feathers of ghost shadows scattering before me.
In the mirrors I hear the slap of handprints against the windows.
For around their feet,
the landscape bleeds into the canyon road,
as it must.

Perhaps the only way to live was to die.

And the only moon is the red stoplight.
It is in the pinholes in my windshield.
cars stand like gravestones
shells with eyes of even empty light

Meanwhile I live in cages for my time on earth
    sucking in the yellow from the sandpaper on my skin
    breathing the rough diamonds of dream pieces.

My only moon is the clock.  Patience.

I want to talk handsfree
    and drive too

And I’ve got no lover to take me places.

All along the highway
I see men throwing ropes
holding bricks of stars in their eyes.

Feel the weight in the air. in my hand.
against the metal of the motor.

Breathe in our night air that
    hovers in the morning
    mist: eat the fog with your teeth.

I turn the wiper blades off to see
if I can survive behind a
glitter mask
in my safe ice cube

I can see the halo of my lashes
falling from my face in the light of that gleaming smile.

ahead
cars hurrying crash in the night
bringing an end to those desires.

The vampires have invaded

You can tell there is too much vampire stuff going on in pop culture these days.

Today I overheard some friends talking about a new tv show:

Friend 1:  It is about this woman, who comes back to her old home town . . .
Friend 2: (interrupting) wait, where is she coming back from?  back from the dead?????
Friend 1: No.