Wednesday, June 29, 2011
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
Monday, June 27, 2011
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
"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
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
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.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
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
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
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.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
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
Thursday, June 9, 2011
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 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.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
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."
"is this yours?"
my long lost ring that got swallowed by dixon
is found again.
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.
don't get parking tickets like me.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
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.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
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.
feel free to call me up & cross one of these off the list.
-museum of natural history
-langhorne slim at the echo
(i have a ticket for this, you should too)
-venice beach - lots
-jack kerouac recordings
-jack kerouac: tristessa
-describe a map to where you live
-look up writing prompts
-is there anything laura can't do?
-write when you first wake up
-dreams like magic moving stone walls and long open fields and long journeys and disappearing people like alice and wonderland