westmoreland

not to be too shamelessly self-promoting but...

LOOK! here is a vid of me reading one of my poems at the Synchronicity Salon earlier this month, created by my friend and neighbor ryan maxey of maxey fish & sea reel.

check out his other work at ryanisyourfriend.com

the i heart people tour

these are my frenz!

stay posted for the kickstarter link coming soon & ways you can support.

diamond minds

diamond minds,

simply exquisite,

simply complex,

shining like the stars

of a thousand smiles,

beaming an elegance

transformed into a

delightful existence

of ever present

day to day humdrum.

to reach such heights

whether alone or

among the longing for

such memorable fair,

can often bewilder

the faint of heart.

a lofty goal? or

a determined failure

of being?

who’s to say?

we wander aimlessly

through our past, longing

for desperate explanations

and simple truths,

only to discover

life as we know it.

-roger criss

vintage

when our biggest worries were breakups & english lit papers

IT'S OK. KEEP ON.

this one time, tobin wrote in big block letters on a small piece of graph paper the words IT'S OK. KEEP ON. and taped it to our bathroom mirror. i forget about it most of the time. but i remembered it today. thank god.

venice

come take a walk down my street

the void

"since beginningless time and into the never-ending future, men have loved women without telling them, and the lord has love them without telling, and the void is not the void because there's nothing to be empty of.

art there, lord star? -diminished is the drizzle that broke my calm."

-jack kerouac, tristessa

grad school

today i decided to devote towards researching grad school programs. let's just say i'm overwhelmed. everything from making lists of all my interested fields, getting as specific as possible and recognizing overlaps, finding programs in cities i like, to aaallll the application requirements and procedures. but what i have found to be very important today was to research by dream jobs and their requirements. i want to be a professor but every institution has different criteria for their faculty. i have so many questions when it comes to grad school i don't know where to even start but what is exciting is that i know what i want to do (generally speaking) and being able to fantasize about my future scholarly life. directing plays in the theatre department and pretentiously talking about literature with professor friends over chianti. muahaha. but best of all would be to get to teach acting. in the classroom. with the students. meisner, voice coaching, workshopping and watching magic happen when someone gets it, when a scene finally comes to life, when an actor becomes someone else and we are lost in the moment and forget that they were acting. the phrase i can't wait simply does not describe it. i really really really really can't wait.

friends from the blvd

this sky

this

sky

where we live

is no place to lose your wings

so love, love,

love.

-hafiz of persia

come play with me

look what i made:

watching alice in wonderland on vhs is so much more fun when it's from in here.

happy father's day

my dad has the most righteous mustache

but really though,

my dad is.....

a hospice nurse,

a poet,

a political commentator,

feminist,

a musician at heart..

and he can beat your dad up.

happy father's day pops.

tea

i have been sick for a month.

i have had a cough for a month at least.

so i am getting really good at this routine.

cough syrup is usually involved, although

i've been trying not to continually drink it

everyday. but before bed, so i can maybe

get some shut eye. and of course, my

sleepytime tea with lemon and honey.

and arthur rimbaud. robitussin, tea

and poetry and please i hope i get better

soon.

morning

the thing about being awake at 5am is that you can hear things you normally can't. it's quiet enough that i can hear the freeway sounds and that makes me glad i am in my cozy room. or it makes me wish i was packing up for a road trip, leavin' early in the morning like i always do. also, i can hear the people that get up this early for work. there aren't many, just a few. but i can hear them, the tinkle of their keys, the engine starting. if you wait long enough, the sky will start to lighten and a wintry blue hangs everywhere. birds start to chirp. and if everything i could take in with my eyes were a painting, it'd have this really beautiful color palette of the golden amber of my lamp glowing in my bedroom with the cerulean haziness of outside coming in. i'm awake and bored. and a little hungry. the internet in my room isn't good enough to watch anything on hulu so i just sit here and yawn, maybe read, hope i'll fall asleep, consider taking a shower, think about the day ahead. it's a beautiful morning. but i hope tomorrow, i'm not awake for it.

1995

now i wanna see this:

college

sensation

i've been trying to read rimbaud out loud in french. but it's hard because there are so many big, fancy words i don't know. at least it sounds nice. french always does. here is a poem called sensation. in english:

in the blue summer evenings, i will go along the paths,

and walk over the short grass, as i am pricked by the wheat:

daydreaming i will feel the coolness on my feet.

i will let the wind bathe my bare head.

i will not speak, i will have no thoughts:

but infinite love will mount my soul;

and i will go far, far off, like a gypsy,

through the countryside - joyous as if with a woman.

-arthur rimbaud, 1870

vintage

friday night

*studio paint

*dirty feet

*cough attack

*bed sheets

*salon list

*paper folds

*gifted art

*book stacks

*kiss you

ocean hymn

riding on a ghost wave

of the sea, i saw a mermaid

perched on galant, jagged rock.

she would not sing to me,

she would not sing.

she put her ear to a conch shell

and laughed quietly,

whispering her deep ocean

secrets, then winked at me.

in one dark moment, she was gone,

with only the tip of her fin breaking

the water at the very end.

and then, nothing.

and i had a vision,

of poseidon raising souls to waves

and of a thousand whirlpools

sucking me in.

of lightning and thunder

striking down like arms with

fists crashing on rocks and homes

and dreams.

and a thick black blanket of cloud

rolling in low and heavy and

grumbling its eager, slow opinion.

of a shipwreck with silent screams

and dozens of heroes lost.

and of the water receding until

atlantis came up from the bottom

and the mermaids moon bathed in the night

and all is now quiet.

and i, i am just riding

ghostward on the waves.

i, i am just a ghost.

i am a drop of rain.

i am your missing coat.

i am a thought.

on the sea, i saw a mermaid

perched on a galant, jagged rock.

she would not sing to me,

she would not sing.

phone: pictures from friends & my new books

texts from my friends

"look at my new tattoo"

"do not go gentle into that good night,

old age should burn and rage at close of day;

rage, rage against the dying of the light."

-dylan thomas

"is this yours?"

my long lost ring that got swallowed by dixon

is found again.

AND

i got presents to myself in the mail.

three rimbaud poems a day, thank you.

"And from then on I bathed in the Poem

Of the sea, infused with stars and lactescent,

Devouring the azure verses; where, like a pale elated

Piece of flotsam, a pensive drowned figure sometimes sinks;"

and oh, my jack.

reading him is like coming home.

HAPPY WEDNESDAY!

don't get parking tickets like me.

in the morning

matt walked around with me looking for my car

last night because i couldn't remember where i

parked it. we gave up and i slept over instead.

and a good glass of wine will calm that nightly

cough attack right down. and when i found my car

in the morning i wished i had put my sunglasses in

my bag because it was early and bright and it

hurt my eyes. also, i left my journal at their house

and now i feel naked. anyway it was good night,

it was a weird night, and there were a lot of

people in that tiny room which is good because

it means that people are creating and that people

care. i do anyways. i think we all do anyways.

tents n treehomes

first of all, i got a pintrest. and there you can see these kinds of spaces, the ones i've been dreaming of.

bubbly and swaying

first it was a deep, dozing nap after a long day. then it was wandering a deserted synchronicity, trying to open my eyes and since someone forgot to cook we ordered thai food instead and then it was me and gina, dancing to fleetwood mac, gulping on pinot, eating, slamming our feet, laughing then silence. then rest. then records spinning and each of us in our own worlds, me typing as fast as i can, i'm feeling glad and bubbly and swaying to the music and jazz and joni and smiling and writing. then gina's off to bed and i'm here alone, writing and browsing, sipping and sinning and wondering and growling and feeling sad and unwanted. feeling frustrated at some of the bits of my new life like my close friends are still far enough away and missing my parents and wishing i could see amy and the kids and wanting people to see the good me but i don't always show it, you have to come 'round after hours and i'll be here waiting.

things i want to do this summer:

feel free to call me up & cross one of these off the list.

-huntington library

-LACMA

-dodger game

-dodger/giants game

-museum of natural history

-MOCA

-descanso gardens

-langhorne slim at the echo

(i have a ticket for this, you should too)

-venice beach - lots

list for m@x

-jack kerouac recordings

-jack kerouac: tristessa

-perspective

-grandma freeland

-draw circles

-warm cheeks

-describe a map to where you live

-look up writing prompts

-do them

-is there anything laura can't do?

-write when you first wake up

-runny nose

-dreams like magic moving stone walls and long open fields and long journeys and disappearing people like alice and wonderland