... the Kubler-Ross Playlist****...

y'know when music ain't just music? when you are living some cheesy teen movie in your head and your music collection becomes the soundtrack to your mini-major drama? I just had me one of those....


The very best thing to come out of it, I can now see, is the on-the-go playlists I created on my ipod. I will spare you the "10 Things I Hate About You" details and just tell you the tunes:




Denial:
Sam Cooke - You Send Me
The Kinks - Strangers
Guster - Center of Attention
Tragically Hip - Long Time Running
James Taylor - Walking Man
Smokey Robinson - Cruisin'
REM - Stand
Loggins and Messina - Same Old Wine
Ratatat - Tacobel Canon




Anger:
Tokyo Police Club - Favourite Food
Sleigh Bells - Rill Rill
The Love Language  - Heart to Tell
Menomena - Dirty Cartoons
Dashboard Confessional - The End of an Anchor
Phil Collins - That's Just the Way It Is
Vampire Weekend - White Sky
Good Old War - My Own Sinking Ship
Dispatch - Riddle




Bargaining:
Van Morrison - If I Ever Needed Someone
Good Old War - Coney Island
Good Old War - Tell Me
The Kinks - The Contenders
Samantha Crain - The River
Mos Def/DJ Dub - Respiration Remix f.Talib Kwali
The Phoenix Foundation - Buffalo
Hold Steady - The Weekenders
Florence and the Machine - Girl With One Eye
Dr Dog - Jackie Wants a Black Eye
The Gaslight Anthem - We Did It When We Were Young
The Kinks - Got To Be Free
Three Blind Wolves - Hotel




Depression:
Florence and the Machine - You've Got the Love
Lady Gaga - Again Again
Two Hours Traffice - Sure Can Start
Miike Snow - Sans Soleil
Mos Def - Kalifornia
The Beatles - Come Together
Jett Valentine - Outlaws
The Powder Keg - Mariposa




Acceptance:
Sally Seltmann - On The Borderline
Hark The Herons - New Start to Start
Matt Ponds PA - Ruins
Mos Dub - Kampala Truth Work
The Crookes - Backstreet Lovers
Otis Redding - Down in the Valley
Born Ruffians - What to Say
Florence and the Machine - Dog Days are Over
Her Space Holiday - If You Want to Sing Out
The Futureheads - Heartbeat Song
Folded Paper Figures - Invent It All Again
The Hoof and the Heel - Lets Hangout
Otis Redding - Amen




I made a youtube playlist for the whole shebang, which you can find here






**** the Kubler-Ross model is the proper name for the five stages of grief

... how much do i want this...

.... this may even force me to break my NO DECALS rule....

especially since my laptop is starting to look like shit....

... the jukebox conundrum...

last friday I was faced witha jukebox... and I froze... it isn't that I don't love music, know music... but in the moment... I couldn't remember a SINGLE song that I liked... not one... so I ended up picking "A Little Less Conversation" by Elvis Presley... the Oceans 11 remix.... Not that that isn't a fun song... I like it...

But if jukebox choices are to truly represent you... as Nick Hornby says... its what you like, not what you ARE like... than it isn't the song I would choose to communicate my self to the world....

And then I threw my back out... So I spent a lot of time on my back with a heating pad, staring at the ceiling with nothing to do but listen to Classic Rock on 181.fm The Eagle on my internet stereo thingamajig...

so I made a list of SONGS THAT ARE AWESOME... there was 1 rule. I had to hear the song played... If I heard it, and it was awesome... I wrote it down. For those who care to judge me by my musical taste but cannot decipher my upside down scrawl - Here's the list:

Don't Think Twice - Bob Dylan

Can I Get a Witness - Marvin Gaye

Do It Again - Steely Dan

Changes - David Bowie

Keep On Rocking Me Baby - Steve Miller Band

Tiny Dancer - Elton John

In The Air Tonight - Phil Collins

Hit Me With Your Best Shot - Pat Benatar

Sweet Melissa - Allman Bros

Everyday People - Sly and the family Stone

Thunder Road - Bruce Springsteen

Beast Of Burden - Rolling Stones

Any Way You Want it - Journey

Midnight Rambler - Rolling Stones

Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd

Saturday Night's Alright - Elton John (nearly disqualified for its recent high frequency repetitious presence in my life currently... but it still kinda kicks)

Copperhead Road - Steve Earle

The Break Up Song (They Don't Write 'Em) - Greg Kihn Band

Teenage Wasteland - The Who (Nearly disqualified for its relationship to CSI Miami and my nemesis David Caruso... but it kinda kicks)

Mother - Pink Floyd

Born to Run - Bruce Springsteen

... Number9Dream...

Its funny... whenever i think about what i would do if i ever won the lottery - and chances are slim, i don't buy tickets - I don't think about the usual things first... oh no... no car, or dream vacation or triple a hockey team fill my head... i have always always always started with this fantasy...

From page 210 - Number9Dream by David Mitchell:

"I assume my tour is complete, but notice a slatted cupboard door at the end of the landing. Its knob twizzles uselessly, but it swings open anyway. Its shelves are not shelves, but steep stairs. A knotted rope hangs down to help you haul yourself up. On the third step my head hits the ceiling, which shifts. I push, and a crack of daylight opens as the plyboard trapdoor swings up. I was way wrong. This is better than a hiding place. I emerge into a library/study with the highest book population density i have ever come across. book walls, book towers, book avenues, book side streets. book spillages, book rubble. paperback books, hardback books, atlases, manuals, almanacs. nine lifetimes of books. enough books to build an igloo to hide in. the room is sentient with books. mirrors double and cube the books. A Great Wall of China quantity of books. Enough books to make me wonder if i am a book too. Light comes in through a triangular window. A sort of wickerwork light shade hangs down. Apart from the bookcases and sagging shelves the only item of furniture is an old-fashioned writing bureau with square holes to lose papers and bills in. My grandmother had the same sort. Still does I guess. On the writing bureau are two piles of paper - one white and blank as starched shirts, the other a manuscript laid in a special lacquer tray."

***********

On my FB profile I say that a book becomes one of my favourites when reading it feels like remembering rather than discovering... reading this was exactly what i meant by that... someone else found the words to describe something from my wildest imagination.

good book, worth a read...

You will like this book if you liked: Lost in Translation (sofia coppola); Ransom (jay mcinerney); anything by william gibson; pizzicato five

... modern day barter system...

... I have a job, really... Its tough, in the modern day recesion, the age of salary freezes and position cuts, where cost of living increases have gone the way of the dinosaurs. I love my job, but the paycheque covers the essentials (read: rent and loan payments) but doesn't leave many dollars for much else.

But a resourceful girl as always I have found my way to circumvent. You know how they say a penny for your thoughts? Well, you can have mine for concert tickets, movie passes or free books.

The internet has created a multitude of sites that are open to content and willing to give you the experience if you are willing to share it with the masses. All you need is a basic grasp of grammar (very basic), a point of view and a little wit

... Stone Fox on the interweb....

So, back in college, when I still entertained the thought that I would one day be a great filmmaker, I used to make stuff....

My friend Zayna and I ran the campus tv station, TVMcGill, which by the way, is awesome to this day (due to my legacy, i'm sure)

Anyway, we use to misappropriate the resources to create our own projects... and this one time, we made a music video for a friends band, by editing it for three straight days during the run up to finals in our last year of school. Holed up in the student union for 72 hours we thought we were creating genius. we were actually creating this:




Now, about five years later, I found it on an afternoon of youtube googling phrases from my personal histopry to see what comes up.... I have absolutely no idea how it got there... as the master miniDV and Beta tapes are somewhere in a box in my apartment collecting dust with my books by Kant and Derrida. But I am happy it did.

Maybe not so my viral internet fame can begin, but definitely because watching it brought back the memories of making it, and those were some of the best days in all the ones I have spent toiling away in the movie industry.

And so I thought I might provide a little how to guide on how to make a horrible music video and guarantee a locked in love for filmmaking and future internet embarassment

DO: Create a dummy production company and change your cell phone answering machine to reflect it, thus giving you a home base to secure corporate sponsorship, thus ensuring you do not run up your parents credit card to make your masterpiece

DO NOT: Answer your cell after you have started drinking at night, or before you aare fully awake the next morning, inspiring your sponsor contact to ask "are you really a professional producer? are you a student?" and causing you to have to do a lot of grovelling and finance most of the video with the credit card your parents don't know about (yet)

DO: Figure out your concept and storyboards early, stick to it and follow through.

DO NOT: come up with a narrative that no one is EVER going to understand like... say... I don't know... a guy who wakes up on the roof in a kiddy pool and can't remember where he was or what he was doing the previous evening, causing him to recall it in flashbacks as he walk the streets of Montreal, only to realize that he had stolen the band's mojo and all the flashbacks were actually the aforementioned band chasing him through the streets, and when he finally puts it altogether he just happens to have mentioned the bands practice space, where they are currently practicing in pajamas, causing yet another chase down the block..... Trust me, you will get it, it won't be clear to anyone else.


DO: Prepare as much of the wardrobe, makeup, props, locations, extras, etc in advance

DO NOT: back down from any last minute challenges or changes. Some that we dealt with here were:
-you aren't actually allowed to shoot in the montreal metro, which we did... so it was my job to distract any and all approaching subway cops while the band shot with the DP. I played stupid lost anglophone about 15 times, french subway cops are mean
-The purple footie pajamas for one of the band members were too bright through the camera, we threw them in a mud puddle, then into a drier at the local laundromat, and they were good to go
-we had NO shots of the dickies clothes or logo when they finally came through with the funds on our last day of shooting... we just went back and reshot some dickie's beauty shots... corporate selling out was ingrained in us early
-we couldn't actually get our hands on a smoke machine to create a "smoke rising from an open bag" to signify the bands mojo... instead we had friends take turns hauling down smokes and breathing out the plumes through a hose we inserted througha hole in the bottom of a knapsack.... we killed a lot of brain cells for our art

DO: Always keep food and snacks on hand to keep everyone happy during the day

DO NOT: Let your main talent get loaded and show up 15 minutes before his call time... The coffee and breakfast burritos you have on hand will sober him up and entice him enough to shoot, but you will end up having to make him look that haggard and hungover for the rest of the shoot

DO: do this... its a once in a lifetime opportunity to be this self-indulgent and have this much fun with almost no consequences....

DO NOT: take yourself to seriously.... in the end, the only thing that will happen is a few hundred people seeing it on youtube a half-decade later, just have fun with it.

...Into the Mystic....

... So I have been missing in action the last week and a bit... I have been in Mexico with the fam, spending the week in Playa del Carmen at the beautiful casa passalacqua... Its been amazing, good times, great sun, fun with the fam, too much tequila...

but one thing has been bothering me... (well a few things actually, travelling with the Amazings is pretty tough on an average girl....) but the thing about Playa is that it is pretty Disneyfied... but today we took a little Mexican bus Adventure out to Paa Mul... a little RV Park and Dive Spot off the highway just south of Playa.... and its the kind of vacation spot i dream about... not built up, just a resto, a rv parking lot, a bunch of thatch cabins on the beach and a lot of coastline.... best day in a while, totally worth the crazy sunburn we all returned with....

I do not want to go home, not even a little bit... its a million degrees below zero in Toronto, and i just want to stay here... more blogging about mexico when i get back to the T-dot.... anything to relive the glory while huddled in the freezing white North....

...fuck, i think baudrillard may be right...

That dude used to really piss me off.... Back when i was in school and smart enough to understand simulacra and simulation and getting mad at french philosophers was still something I did...

... and the thing is … on occasion, he still makes me mad...

It doesn't come up a whole lot... but occasionally i will see something and my knee jerk reaction is to blame Jean Baudrillard. It’s weird, i'll admit, but it happens.. and when I try to explain it I generally get some weird looks… I try and just say that… basically, Baudrillard is the guy whose ideas they based the Matrix on…

But I am really thinking that Baudrillard is having a big laugh… because his ideas being inspiration for anyone would be the exact punch line to his big joke…

Baudrillard was your basic shit disturber. He built on everything McLuhan said (you know, that guy from the heritage /canada commercials). And whatever positive, stoic, utilitarian, ‘best foot forward’ Canadian way McLuhan saw things... Baudrillard imprinted his smoky, Les Miserables, gauloise smoking stank on it...

McLuhan saw all technology and communication evolving as a way to extend the human body, which allows increased interaction with original meaning, all with the aim of more fully understanding the world around us. Baudrillard, on the other hand, says that everything we have created ... from cave drawings to the iphone all removes us one more step from original meaning.... 

... And Baudrillard gets much sunnier after that saying that, basically, there's really no point in even trying to understand the world you live in...  that everything is a copy of a copy of a copy, and all that xeroxing has really left nothing thats legible... and the only reason why we aren't outraged by the whole thing is because all the copying left us dumb enough not to be bothered much.... We don't really feel or think anymore, because we never really had any idea what feeling or thinking felt like... seeing as how we were learning from these really smudgy illegible copies.... He really was a real drag... 

And he admitted to not really believing this dystopian a view could ever grow into a  wasteland that could have inspired the Matrix… but he was just stretching out a possibility…. A possibility that also servied to torture me for eight months in my last year at university, in 501A –Theories in Spectatorship Thesis… (that’s eight months, 24 books and one-fifty page paper worth 100%)… I spent that eight months wanting to walk up to Baudrillard and pinch him... ask him if he felt that... bitch…

... It all sort of went away about four months after graduation. Several cottage parties later and week into my first "real" job i realized no one actually cared what Baudrillard said and that he was be nowhere to be found in my day-to-day life... even after i had spent so many of those thesis pages trying to dissprove him...

That is… except for when some trivial pursuit-esque fact or story reminds me that Baudrillard may actually know what he was talking about...

Like tonight,  I read that Kurt Sutter (who wrote for the Shield and created my fave new tv series Sons of Anarchy) just wrote a script for a film which – if its made - will be called The Unforgettable... and this movie, if you are to believe the imdb.com boards (and one ALWAYS should, those movie nerds know everything) is based on a PSP game which cites as its influences movies like Se7en and Silence of the Lambs... and that can go back further and further....

And all of a sudden I feel myself hating Baudrillard…

 

Obviously, it would be way more cheerful if one were to ultimately live in McLuhan’s World…. It makes the world a much brighter place - a hybrid car,  terry fox run, lifesaving surgery kind of  world… If Baudrillard reigns you may as well tune in, turn on,,, turn off… nothings gonna get any better, better just ignore it as it gets worse… or get mad about it.

In life, it is these small moments that make me wonder whether ultimately I am a Baudrillard or a McLuhan… seems stupid, but everyone makes those decisions qbout which path they are taking, over and over, every day… even if they don’t think so.

Put it this way... are you going to see The Unforgettable?

 

See if people would just take the time to listen to me it would all make sense… but really, only to me and I think, in the long run, it would be easier if just stop using the word Baudrillard in public... 

... scary...

I am on my way to the bank to seek out the advice of a financial consultant.... First time ever... and thats one student loan and several credit cards into my financial devastation....

yeah, I suck with money... its no secret...

So I am super scared... but I must power through, especially if this is to be mine one day

I love the Argyle... and its always been my dream to live there... and have built in bookshelves, floor-to-ceiling, filled with fun art and design books that are totally pointless beyond the pure pleasure of looking at the pretty pictures.

But to get there I have to be able to pay off my damn loan... so its off to the bank for me... damn you dollars...

besides.. i am sick of thinking that this commercial applies to me...

and i have started thinking that a russell oliver loan may just be a viable solution....

... the view from here....

... as I mentioned in my previous post, the window in my office looks out on the hallway... a highly trafficked path that leads to the office screening room and reception (depending on which way you are headed)

So, sick of being like a goldfish on display I slowly began to fill the glass with odd amusements for the passers-by to ogle instead of me... what was one picture two years ago has become this:




(the pictures are super shitty because I took them with my blackberry, not known for its camera skillz)

... i have this weird project ongoing....

... My dad has always, for as long as i can remember, with only one exception, had some type of facial hair... Mostly I remember a full beard and mustache combo... for a while, in the 90's he had a goattee instead. I think it matched his collarless shirts and John Lennon glasses better....

And there was one day, when I was about 8 that he shaved it all off, on whim. My sister and i, as was our custom, rushed up the stairs to my parents bedroom one saturday morning to find him cleanshaven. I was aghast. My sister thought that my mother was having an affair with my uncle. That's how convinced she was that the shorn version of my dad was an impostor (she was kinda dumb back then though... or six, however you want to spin it)

Anyway, facial hair has always had a presence in my life.. is what I am getting at here... Thats the main thrust of this post... that i am writing... now... here on blogger...

And a while ago i found this:




and I printed it and posted it on my office window (if i have never mentioned this before, the only window in my office looks out on... the hallway of my office... I have taken to filling it with amusing odds and ends)... I also sent it to everyone I knew with the hormonal cocktail ideal for facial hair growth (this was most guys I knew... some are still in their "peach fuzz" phase of life...) with the challenge to create and send me all the types....

This met mostly with failure. One stalwart and amazing friends sent me a few... which I promptly lost....

But then I found this and I no longer have to rely on men!!!! (yay, another way)

I will be ordering the full gamut pretty soon.

... back to the blogger....

So i did the tumblr thing for about a minute, and then got mixed up in twitter for a couple seconds... but i am coming back home to you blogger... because posting random shit isn't the same without space for my stupid ass diatribes... you are all i will ever need

...virtual//reality....

NowNow Gallery has been created as a simple and accessible platform for the presentation of photography both Australian and International.

The online gallery, based out of Australia aims to give exposure to contemporary photographers who are committed to documenting the way they live. As these photographers' galleries evolve, it will inevitably become kaleidoscopic. At the very least, giving an alternative view of what we know. And at best, giving us a whole new way of looking.

The site is pretty incredible in general And the blog is superfun

But right now I am totally obsessed with a series of entries that they entitled desktop//desktop. The entries asked each photographer who contributes to the gallery to send a screengrab of their computer desktop, that appears on their monitor, and also to send a photo of the desk the computer is on so that we can see what the actual "desk top" is like.... I love it we are virtually ale to consume the actual reality as well as the now (twice) removed virtual reality of a human we have never even met (or heard of in most cases).... It's more intense than the Hills or Big Brother, and best not to think to hard about....

i will post mine once i remember to bring my camera to work... but here's the screen shot for now:

...i've never even taken psychedelics....

....i was at my mother's the other day, going through boxes of old stuff with my siblings and I came upon my fifth grade journal..... seems that i hated writing personal stuff back then... so I took to writing stories.... Either that... or I have totally blacked out the entire portion of my childhood when I was mixed up with Joplin, Hendrix, opium, acid and generally psychic messiness......

see an excerpt below:

The Way I Saved The World

This morning, as I was eating my bowl of Biskies, my favourite breakfast cereal, I noticed something strange. It was a brown object about the size of a vitamin pill,floating in my milk. at first I had missed i, because it was hidden under some of the Bisk flakes.

"what the heck!" I thought, as i picked it up with my spoon and popped it into my mouth [ed. note....what the fuck? i was popping strange pills at 9? who did i think i was... drew barrymore?] nothing happened at first, but then I started to feel funny

I started to shake. I got hot, then cold, my eyes started to become unfocused.... I saw a book. Not one of my school books, but an ancient book and it looked like it had been sitting their forever. I picked it up and turned it around and around in my hands. It looked like the cover once was very pretty, it was made of pink silk and jewels were stuck on. But now it looked like a wreck. The jewels were falling off and the cover was ripped and the whole thing looked like it was going to fall apart. But before I threw it out I opened it up and started to flip through. When I got to the center pafe a strange beam of light hit the ceiling and started to burn right through it. I slammed it shut and shoved it into my bookbag.

Just in time, because my nosy big sister Lori walked into the kitchen.

"Isn't it time for school you dweeb?" she asked [ed note... yes, we actually did use the term dweeb]

"Yeah," I said, "But i got ta' show ya' something before I go." Then I pulled out the book, opened it to the center page and beamed it at her.

"Anna! You little brat, what is that thing?!" My sister shrieked.

"It's for me to know and you not to." I said (even though I didn't fully know what it was myself.) I made little circle motions with my book and thought to myself, "I am making my sister disappear! this is great!"

After my sister was gone I went into my parents' room where they were getting dressed for work.

"Isn't it time for school schnookums?" My mother said at the exact same time my father said "shouldn't the bus be here soon baby?"

Suddenly I didn't know why I was there. I didn't want my parents to know about the book!

"Um, yeah - um, my - er - bus is, bus is, bus is downstairs... that's it. I just came up ah, came up er, to...say goodbye! yeah! to say good byw... so, uh, bye!" I saud. I got up from wwhere I was seated on the floor and briskly walked out of the room (so not to be obvious).

Right then is when I heard the noise


CHAPTER TWO [ed note. there was no notification of there being a chapter one.....]

Down here, down here you giant oaf!" I heard a tiny voice say. I whirled around on my heel and nearly knockedthe little man over.

"who...who are you?" I questioned him

"I'm the story keeper. I travel with the book" he said, nodding in the direction of the book I had dropped on the floor.

"Well, what do you want of me?" I said.

"I want you to come back with me and save my kingdom." Said the little man. Well, I was a little shooken up, but I said, "Why me?" To which he replied, "Because you believe. You believe in the fantasy, you know, Cinderella, Snow White and Pinochio."

Then I asked, "What exactly is WRONG with fairy tale land?"

"You'll see when you get there." he said.

What was going on, I didn't know. I picked up the book and the man and walked outside. I needed fresh air more than anything right then

As i walked through the doorway my stomach was churning, and my head started spinning. I closed my eyes and I felt a slight wind and when I opened my eyes again I wasn't where I was before.

I saw the most wonderful things. I saw the greenest trees with golden blossoms, and a man sitting under the tree playing a silver guitar, the petals from the tree showering over im. While I listened to the beautiful music I looked up and towering over me was a castle. There were turrets and a huge iron gate guarding the wooden doors.

"It's beautiful," I said slowly as I turned to face the story keeper (who was now about two and a half times my size)

"So," I said, "What gives? What's wrong?"

"Come with me," He said with a solemn face... and he headed off towards the castle.

The inside of the castle was more beautiful than the outside. The story keeper led me into the most beautiful rooms and hallways, laiden with jewels. As I was led into one huge chamber I almost fainted.

"LORI!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"

My sister was lying in a huge bed.

"What are you doing here?' I said

"You, my darling little sister, put me here" she shrilled.

"Miss" said a well-dressed man as he stood up from his seat in the corner, "miss, we are having some problems here." He coughed then started up again. "she", nodding in the direction of the bed where my sister lay, listening and watching wide-eyed, "will not move and she has the royal highnesses crown and magic staffand she is making HORRIBLE things happen here... and her majesty is mixed up with your world."

Back at home, it seemed, my mom and dad had left for work and her majesty was all alone, slowly walking around my house.

I mean come ONNN! was I genius? I think so... that story is puking imagination... and it even has some style... I used the word "blossoms"... I was NINE, for fucks sake... I don't know... I think that I coulda' been a contender... eat that JK Rowling.... and who's the kid who made a kajillion dollars with his novel by 15... what were my parents thinking... they shoulda locked me in my room til i came out with 16 more (un) chapters....

fuck...

....do you think i got 'em?.....

.... "Bette Davis Eyes" by Kim Carnes was the # 1 hit song, according to the Billboard charts on the day I was born.

Check Josh Hosler's Database to find out yours... it dates all the way back 'til 1890... so you hundred and seventeen year olds won't be left out.......

....i've decided.....

....that I am in love with all things McGillicuddy.....

....the political party has my vote (unfortunately it counts for nothing in New Zealand)

....and henceforth I will constantly carry a small flask of dr.mcgillicuddy's new orleans style fireball whiskey in my purse..... it makes for some fun adventures on Saturday nights.... even if you do not learn about them until sunday afternoon, at brunch

Postsecret

I am assuming that by now everyone knows about postsecret..... It is one of my favourite sites on the internet.... I think that I have checked it (at least) once a week for the past two years. I even went out and bought the first book (and am waiting for the second, once you read it once it's fun to look at but not the same, I wanna only get it once I can't take not having it anymore.

Just in case you don't know about postsecret, a quick overview is that a whole bunch of years ago a guy decided to go to his local library in Maryland and slip cards into a tonne of the books (i think he started with a thousand cards) asking people to take a 4x6 card and create a postcard with their secret on it. It could be ANYTHING. And he expected to maybe get a couple back. Within weeks he was getting thousands of secrets from all over the world. People were so excited to get their deepest darkests off their chests, safely, creatively, anonymously, that word travelled by mouth, email, letter, radio, telelvision and, now, thousands of secrets reach maryland each and every week.

I love that you can tell your secrets to someone who doesn't know you. I love, even more, that you can read other people's secrets and not know who they are, even though you know whats at the heart of them.

I hate, however, when they post people's responses to the cards. I mean, the whole point of the frickin thing is that EVERYONE has a response to EVERY card. I don't wanna know what people are thinking about something.

But today I have a comment. I am not sending it to Maryland.... I am putting it here. This is pretty much my postcard anyway. The snapshot of my twisted brain.... Today I saw this card and i couldn't help but wish that i had sent it(or that I could draw). I have no idea why that person wrote it, or what they meant by it. It could be interpreted so many ways. But I love it, because my crazy friends are the ones I love the most. They understand my crazy..... and don't make a big fucking deal of it. We are all their for eachothers' insanity. We help where we can, but more, we understand when help is not required. Just presence.

So to all my Crazies..... I love you to bits.... Thanks for being nuts.... It keeps me sane

.... i've decided....

.... that I want all my conversations to have hyperlinks....

....It would mean I could always avoid the fact that sometimes people just have absolutely no clue what the fuck I am talking about....

.... a band of misfits....

... I am sitting amidst memory. The sounds of stories, and voices and laughter and song tell the story of who i am, at the heart. The people around me are where I have come from and, more importantly, who I have become. More than ever I realize that I am who I am because at 14 - wide-eyed, scared, lonely and alone - a group of people, thrown together by privilege and circumstance, showed me that all i was afraid of was being who i could become, and that who i could become was a person worth being.....

....She plays my goosebumps, my memory and my dreams. She plays my happy memories, my courage and my fears. She plays my sense of humour, my curiousity and my calm. And as i watch her from my seat, singing, joking, making fun of herself in a way that shows humility, yet awareness of her own power, her own talent, i am transported to another time, another realization....

....A rooftop amidst trees, the cool, granular tarring of rough roof on my back and a hot summer wind flowing over my front, I watched a million stars, lieing silently, still, amidst broken chords... they must have a name, but to me they are the chords that sound like water, dropping and breaking apart in waves on a glassy pool.... I lie and listen as music comes at me from above, on the peak of the roof, from her guitar.... her hands.... her voice.... her heart.....And that is the love that sustained me, nurtured me and gave me heart, strength and pride.... Humble and strong, soft, yet rugged. A mountain guide. And the goosebumps that come from knowing that this, this is a moment. Like, a 'moment'... that will stay with me, that i will remember, that will change me.... and i do, and it has. It was a moment of realization... not of anything in particular. just an awareness that it was a moment. As simple as that, or rather, as complex as the things that conspire to lead to awareness. The stars, the sky, the music and me. That was enough, it was everything.

A decade later. Another sky, another night and her voice brings it all back. To a room where the same people laugh, tell the same stories, the same jokes, that have linked us for a generation. Through time and change and distance and all that is growing up (or growing older). And we have, at our centre, a bond that is bigger than the stories we tell, the summer space we shared, the memories that exist for each of us. We are eachothers teachers, each others students, audiences, co-conspirators, cheerleaders, celebrators and shoulder to lean on. Life has taken us down different roads, we are a band of misfits, an unnatural table. We draw attention with our size, our disparity, the noise. there are suits and students and lawyers and singles and actors and wives and homeowners and worldtravellers and uncles and teachers and orphans and liquidity and renters... But somehow we are all the same.

We are the ones who put a lot of weight in sentiment. Empathy, Sincerity, Dependability, Integrity, Tolerance, Courtesy, Courage. These were words with meaning. Are words with meaning, for a group that devoted time, months at a stretch, to nothing but learning the value of the human spirit. Though I still feel silly spouting sentiment in a world where I am largely a cynic, I push through and put it out there. Tonight I am happy to be the fool who believes. To live in another moment. have a perfect moment live again through me. Tonight I trust that happiness and trust, purity of spirit exists. I saw it, in each memory changing, yet frozen in time, and perhaps in the spaces between us.




ps. the goosebumpsreside here - http://www.abandofowls.ca/

crossways, and sideways and upways and downways

I really want a glass elevator, like willy wonka has.... not like the one in the movie (in either movie) but like the one in the book, which is confined only by the limits of imagination.... that thing could go frickin'anywhere. I nmy head that (and the bus in the harry potter book) is like the coolest way to travel.... teleportaion would be nice, i mean it's fast and all, but zooming, so that it could be REALLY fast, and still include travel that would be stellar!

I like travel, its the closes thing to suspended animation I think I will ever experience, I'm there, but have nothing to do, just exist. I am doing nothing, but going somewhere, getting things done....

.... travel is the lazy mans favourite activity....