beckett's play

the first time i saw this version of play was in an exhibition at the jeu de paume in paris. i'm in love with these actors and their exquisite performance. your thoughts on beckett's play?

list

maybe life always takes you where you never

thought you'd go but i refuse to believe that

desires don't matter. a friend told me once

to make a list of all the things that make

you unhappy and then start crossing them

off your list. we have the ability to eliminate

the toxic things in our life. so far, i have yet

to replace that list with things that do make

me happy but that is okay. i am okay. and i

am very brave. we are braver than we believe.

ahoy the salty sea air

bonnie

from the freeland archives, an old relative of mine.

tea and postcards

lying on my stomach, with my feet

in the air like a teenager, kicking my

thoughts around, listening to dinah

washington singing the blues, telling

the truth in my room where it's safe,

in my room where it's just me and the

record player and nothing else.

sometimes carl sandburg or hafiz or t.s.

eliot but that's it and it's only us in here

dreaming and scheming and

wondering; figuring it all out, all of

life with coffee and tea and postcards

from belgium from france; from

san francisco from sydney. pretending

they are tiny windows, looking out

my windows and seeing across the

horizon to a place far far away,

dinah washington singing all the time.

the trumpet player wailing all the time.

brushing my hair, kicking my thoughts

in the air, dreaming and scheming

and wondering all the time.

dig

we are very different

via retrofuturs

theme in yellow

by carl sandburg

i spot the hills

with yellow balls in autumn.

i light the prairie cornfields

orange and tawny gold clusters

and i am called pumpkins.

on the last of october

when dusk is fallen

children join hands

and circle round me

singing ghost songs

and love to the harvest moon;

i am a jack-o-lantern

with terrible teeth

and the children know

i am fooling

best coast

i saw best coast for the first time a year...maybe a year and a half ago at spaceland in LA with some free tickets that shawn won. i'd never heard of them and after the show we met frontlady bethany cosentino in front of the venue, giggling like a teenager and super nice. at the time, they were just a local LA band. since then we've watched her skyrocket to the top. best coast is easily the coolest new thing and she and the band have been experiencing a whirlwind of international success with tours, music vids and popular zine appearances. here are two versions of their new music video for "boyfriend." enjoy.

happy tuesday!

we need a woman's touch

i take tea at three

phantastic

friends

hey, folks.

i've updated my blogroll to your right.

weeded out the links of people who

don't really post anymore. and

added some people who do.

poetry, scribblings & other

musings on foxtrot uniform charlie kilo.

cute crafts and inspirations

via sincerely, ames.

collage art, paintings, melancholy journals

and travel memoirs on pocketful of posies.

comics with dry humor from artist/graphic

designer extraordinaire stephen bobbett.

and don't forget the importance of the

fashion blog (my guilty pleasure) with

chronicles of vogue and what she should have worn.

some of these lovelies have been kind enough

to feature my poetry series vid, (found here)

which i love them for.

in other news, i am thoroughly obsessed with the following:

sweet dreams chamomile mint tea,

the let it bleed album (specifically "gimme shelter"),

playing dress up when i can't sleep (often),

looking at laurel canyon bungalows on craigslist,

red wine spritzer with diet 7up (a criss fav),

getting my hair to do THIS someday,

putting creole spice on everything,

old theatre textbooks.

au revoir mes amis.

m'aimer tendre

au revoir, l'été! aucun plus de soleil et le sable.

oh, my love

happy 70th birthday john.

aleksandra

this is allie.

this is where you can see her beautiful art:

aleksandra zee

burnt pages

i put classical music on the record

player to make me smarter,

and books in my bed when

i sleep, too. polaroids fall out

of jacket sleeves, remind me

of the past; and of the future

too. no more caffeine and no

more whiskey. just tea and

wine and conversations over

jazz. walking around in dark

stockings on the carpet and

hoping the telephone will ring

hoping for good news from

somewhere. orange poppies and

pink dahlias and landscapes,

borders and treelines. dried

bouquets and photos that didn't

turn out, growing my hair out.

long sleeves and lawn leaves

and bed lamp and my bed with

books under the covers keeping

me company. burnt pages and

ages of dreams and memories

bleeding and seeming to know

something i don't. looking forward

and back and always the past,

kissing his butterfly eyes and the

hair on his neck and always the

australian bracelet keeping me close

to him rests on my wrist and says

its okay, i love you.

and the girls in bull rushes

ellymarie

this is elly.

i like her.

i think she is made of both light & dark.

heart(felt)

this poem: "water"

untitled #4

my ceiling fan circles lazily

and makes a humming sound.

that heartbreak feeling in the

pit of my stomach.

i drop my cell phone to the

ground and curse it.

i pull my arms inside my

shirt and elastic over my

forehead where its safe.

silence malingers and

time simply passes.

finding reasons to be

happy like tea and jazz

singers. the voice of a friend,

a piece of good news.

but then i come back here.

where pain resides and

tomorrow doesn't.

where crocheted blankets

are my constant and i

whisper things to myself,

to nobody that's there.

where i achieve a state

of blankness because

entertaining thoughts

drive me. eventually, i

fall asleep.

bay windows

romping down toward the park

in my boots with my friend

pulling on caps and wiping

wet bangs from our foreheads

spitting words onto the street

and giggling for three years

dodging late night sprinklers

and homeless dogs and

penny whistlers.

hopin' and prayin' her favorite

place is open where the woman

sits at her piano and i say it

feels like we're in paris, in

musee carnavalet only this time

gay boys with sparkle rings

grab the mic and sing to their

hearts content and our hearts

sing with them. and them, some

funny foreigners ask me how i

like it up north and sugar rimmed

glasses in dainty hands out of

long baggy sweaters and ripped

dresses, dirty tresses, chapped

lips, turning off the telephone

to just listen. we ask questions like

why do hearts break and why does

it hurt and when can i see you next,

why did we cut our hair and hair

tied up in knots we complain and

say we're growing it out, growing

like an alphonse mucha belle

epoque girl, hair down to our knees

like eliot's mermaids not his own.

thinking about series and lampshades

and nook tables and paris and

john coltrane licking our ears,

get up to say goodbye come again.

bay windows and pillows and yes

i'll come again.

it's good to keep lists

*sad oldies

*kristina

*bloom

*early saturday

*jeune

*fan club

*san francisco

*limitations

*grief

on the coming of october

october is my favorite month, so i am glad that it is here. however, this year october finds me in a unique state and that is one of transition; one of learning. desires on hold, i'm living through this time to do things like save money, study french, reflect on the last two years, learn how to be content (no matter what), have patience, apply for grad schools and see what happens next for me. i'd really rather be on the other side of a learning phase, but...

here's to learning...

on doing much when given little, via mackenzie

on pain, as a person, via tobin

& i'm flattered to have been featured on this blog, via brittan

read, enjoy, learn, listen, share, happy weekend