Mophead and Poppit

Dream Summer

2012-01-05T19:08:00.000-08:00

Mike Brodie

2011-12-23T20:56:00.000-08:00

"Maybe I’ve just become obsessed with dirty cloth & dull rags, objects that have been touched by a million different hands then set back down—right there—just for me. Things that are made by chance or found on the side of a road, rather than bought or sold. What’s a story anyways? Why do people tell them?

My first memory was when I was a year old. Imagine that. Lyin’ by a river bed, Arizona is hot in the summer, and even worse when you have an earache. One-year-old with no pants on, screaming and crying like it would help or something, my face bright RED. The blanket I was lying on, made of prickly pear green wool. If that cloth was still around, it would tell you a story. But its long gone, underground somewhere, tired.

I’ve been shittin’ and pissin’ for 20 years since that day. Most of the time I miss, but I “make photos” now, valued by some. Who are these people? One of my favorites is still that one my mom took, my dad cuttin’ into a turkey like a man—in prison since, my grandma laughin’ drunk in the foreground—dead now. I still have that one. As for why, who knows? This is where I am and what I’m doing. Everyone I’ve ever met is responsible for it, and those eyes of theirs—never blank—always tryin’ to focus right there on the pupil. It’s always difficult to get a good look at both of ‘em. Go ahead and try. You’ll just end up starin’ right at the bridge of the nose.

The photos. I want people to see ‘em just as you’d want to tell someone a good story. Nobody enjoys boredom. And when I’m good and dead, maybe my lungs’ll still be around, with some words beneath. Everything comes as a surprise—thank GOD."

tear his heart out cold as ice it's mine

2011-12-13T22:08:00.000-08:00

Publicly claiming ownership

2011-12-08T15:26:00.001-08:00

Just like a dog pissing all over a tree.

Ash Wednesday

2011-12-07T03:38:00.000-08:00

"Something has to mean something even if we have to make it up. Let's make it up; I love you, you love me. Let's stick with it. Let's take it across the goddam goal line. Ok?"

"We spend fifty years together and some shit's gonna go down. But you can't stop fighting. You can't let go. Take your shoes off. Stay awhile."

"Making vows about tomorrow seemed to be uselessly tempting fate. You could make vows of intent, but promising anything further about an unknown variable like the future seemed arrogant."

"If we could just love each other and live in truth as much as possible and not at some idea of what a relationship is supposed to be...To maintain a perspective on the other and not wholly judge him in context to yourself... An awake, conscious life, that's all I really desired."

Happy Summer

2011-12-06T00:43:00.000-08:00

My Brenda, My Patti, My Brown Haired Hootenanny

2011-12-04T08:12:00.000-08:00

I love you, Birthday Girl.

Welcome home, baby

2011-12-03T00:09:00.001-08:00

Better man

2011-11-24T15:58:00.000-08:00

Vanity

2011-11-13T10:49:00.000-08:00

"Fear that we aren't the one whose body could be beloved of all the brides of Kansas city,
kissed all over by every boy in Wichita"

the wrong game

2011-11-08T16:29:00.000-08:00

An Iggy & the Stooges night tonight

2011-11-08T14:54:00.000-08:00

and again next week in new underwear.

Blooms Day

2011-11-08T14:14:00.000-08:00

"He became frightened of flowers because they grew so slowly that he couldn’t tell what they planned to do."

reliving teenage years in suburbia

2011-11-03T16:28:00.001-07:00

sunbaking in mums backyard drinking cordial, reading Ginsberg, sunset visits to the beach, pub on sundays.

Warming Up

2011-11-01T19:49:00.000-07:00

working hard...ish. in the country.

2011-10-30T22:28:00.000-07:00

Ned Kelly Country

2011-10-27T22:14:00.000-07:00

wild rose everything, cherry dr pepper, yellow and purple bush flowers, dams, pretty settler towns and stone cottages with verandahs, warm winds from the north that you only get in the backend of mid south Australia, kill bill churches, smells like childhood summers.

Centered

2011-10-18T22:02:00.000-07:00

"I had this idea that we could be a home for each other, but maybe that's not right. Maybe a person can't do that for someone else. But people need a center...It was too much to ask you to give me that"

"I'd spent all this time and energy over the years searching for a home - and home for me, I was realising, was simply being close to my own ability to love".

For Poppit

2011-10-16T21:55:00.000-07:00

I'm with you in Rockland

where you will split the heavens of Long Island

and ressurect your living human Jesus from the

superhuman tomb

I'm with you in Rockland

where there are twentyfive-thousand mad comrades

all together singing the final stanzas of the

Internationale

I'm with you in Rockland

where we hug and kiss the United States under

our bedsheets the United States that coughs

all night and won't let us sleep

I'm with you in Rockland

where we wake up electrified out of the coma

our own souls' airplanes are roaring over the

roof they've come to drop angelic bombs the

hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls

collapse O skinny legions run outside O

starry spangled shock of mercy the eternal

war is here O victory forget your underwear

we're free

I'm with you in Rockland

in my dreams you walk dripping fom a sea-

journey on the highway across America in tears

to the door of my cottage in the Western night

Slow Ambition

2011-10-11T22:59:00.000-07:00

"But I knew that to be the grown-up that I wanted to be, to be the adult I dreamed of being, I would have to have some other experiences besides just pretending to be other people in front of a camera."

Ethan Hawke, Hobo Magazine

Valley of the Dolls

2011-10-09T22:31:00.000-07:00

"You mean you'd marry just anyone?"
"Not anyone. Just anyone who'd give me a nice beaver coat, a part-time maid, and let me sleep til noon each day".

Partners In Crime

2011-10-07T07:27:00.000-07:00

Mappelthorpe seemed to be a theme this week

2011-10-05T20:40:00.000-07:00

Spring into it

2011-10-04T20:22:00.000-07:00

Hold On

2011-10-02T04:41:00.000-07:00

This song came on when I found this picture. Seemed to work.

Time is on your side

2011-09-27T07:55:00.000-07:00

This song makes me want to do everything in this video clip, including the slo mo's.

Reminiscing

2011-09-27T01:09:00.000-07:00

A little Americana goes a long way

say it with flowers and the stars

2011-09-23T18:08:00.000-07:00

sex and art the model and nudes

2011-09-22T12:26:00.000-07:00

Amalgamation; combining entitites

2011-09-21T12:43:00.000-07:00

three am

2011-09-19T12:34:00.000-07:00

white lilies pilates two coffees one red bull pink flowers smells like summer white butterfly elderly lady at the bus stop with cream organza bow tied around her neck fishing store sequin specialist cherrys house kick door in jump on Rita get cape fly to Midian wake up Herbie soften blow with packed lunch prance around stage blow up balloons get thrown over shoulder scavenge reverse garbage fly home bath groan and cry through last words of just kids by patti smith.

Pool of Positivity

2011-09-18T10:19:00.000-07:00

2011-09-17T05:12:00.000-07:00

When you are completely lost you are completely free

2011-09-14T22:45:00.000-07:00

White bed, white sheets, white curtains, white bath, white lavender body lotion, white noise.

Home

2011-09-13T19:47:00.000-07:00

"Once having traversed the threshold, the hero moves in a dream landscape of curiously fluid, ambiguous forms, where he must survive a succession of trials... he discovers for the first time that there is a benign power everywhere supporting him in his superhuman passage.’ Joseph Campbell, The Hero With A Thousand Faces."

London

2011-09-11T13:40:00.000-07:00

I had the most amazing birthday in London. I turned 26 on a Barge in Paddington wearing my DiMaggio Yankees shirt that Tess bought me in New York and I went to my old local pub with lots of old friends from home that turned into even better friends overnight. My girlfriends made me a cake and I bought lingerie in Soho. We went to Bath and had picnics, got drunk in the park and swam. I stole the scrabble pieces from the pub and hid them down my playsuit. Then shimmied them out of the bottom in the park and Steve made words out of them on the ground. I spent the afternoon with boys in the old open air baths playing Marco Paulo and making chairs out of noodles. Banana and chocolate pasties taste like garbage.
I hung out with friends and friends of friends in East London – slowly running into more and more people and more and more types of booze. Cider in London fields, bloody marys in Hackney, dinner in a Dalston gastropub and beer in an ex African-American club with too many attractive men for my brain to handle. I went back with Poppit later, danced and kissed a boy called Sebastian with slicked back hair and a killer moustache.
Poppit and I live together for a couple of weeks in a room in Hackney. We spend nights in Dalston drinking red wine and falling over each other. Roasts in Stoke Newington at the Rose and Crown or The New Rose – dimly lit pubs with wooden walls on rainy Sunday nights, hungover and lying in the leather booths listening to The Horrors. We have the same conversations over and over and speak in shared jokes and repeated quotes. We’re not perfect spending 24/7 up in each other’s video but, like sisters, even doing the laundry turns into a peaceful adventure of smoothies and rose tea.
My two childhood friends kissed in London. I went to my favourite pubs and bars and got really drunk on Whiskey with people I love. We have five hour jam sessions at each others’ houses. I swear off hangovers. Then I remember how much I relish them. Days partying are interspersed with days in bed watching Barfly and Beverly Hills episodes. Being embarrassed becomes second nature. Acting like a twat becomes forgivable. And leaving it all behind, hard.

France

2011-09-10T04:06:00.001-07:00

I would say Paris because that’s the only place in France I was meant to go to. But I missed my plane and ended up on one to Lyon and on a train to Paris.
I met a wonderful, eccentric couple my parent’s age on the plane to Lyon. He reminded me of Jacques Tati. They offered me a ride to the train station and gave me a tour of the city on the way.
Everyone in France is amazingly friendly and my faith in humanity is restored.
In Paris I am sick with the flu. I’m locked up in a beautiful apartment in Montmartre watching Black Books and blowing into tissues. I only came here for the crazy horse and Monet’s garden and I am well enough to do both, but I am too sick to explore Le Marais and Rue Cler again. Or enjoy the sun. But I do ride a bike through the countryside and have to take refuge in a lovely inn for lunch when the courtyard gets flooded with a passing storm. Dianne and I ride back in yellow rain ponchos and laugh so much we have to stop. There are wildflowers and horses and grug plants. I look forward to seeing Poppit on Tuesday and I breathe through any tension in Paris that will soon leave.

Spain

2011-09-07T02:51:00.000-07:00

Spain is hot. It is hot and dry and the only thing I love is the graffiti that covers it. There are tourists everywhere and I resent being one of them, but the tapas is great. The water is cool and I listen to a jazz band on the beach - the drummer used to play with John Coltrane. I meet an amazing blonde Swedish man who has been traveling in a van with his dog and living in caves.
I spend two days alone in Granada, visiting the baths and having gin and tonics with a likeminded woman. I wander the Alhambra grounds and sleep in a beautiful hotel. It is bliss and I am alone.
I visit family in Alicante and swim in their pool and drink lots of tea while talking about what my grandpa was like when he was young. There are palm tress. It is like an oasis in the desert.
In Barcelona, Di and I stay with a wonderful couple in their bohemian apartment on a mattress on the floor and a rooftop that looks over El Borne. We go to the beach and eat good food and smile and have a week of interesting conversation.
I learnt so much in Spain. I always thought people said that as a compromise to saying “I had such a bad time” but now I understand. I had opportunities to change my path and when I didn’t take them the universe hurled more and more abuse at me until I understood that one must follow their own path, even if it means hurting someone else. Because otherwise, you’ll hurt them anyway later, and yourself too. It’s the non-judgement it should be done with that is such a challenge and I was wondering how the universe was going to kick my ass for being so inept at it. It seems like such a simple lesson but I learnt it over and over again; a friend clarifies it as “recognition and detachment”. I feel she is a genius even though it seems like such a clear truth.

New York's Thataway!

2011-08-31T07:27:00.000-07:00

New York is walking around the Lower East side at 4am looking for a hotel (“How long would you like the room for? An hour? – taxi driver) and getting mistaken for a prostitute. First me, then him. It’s conversations that change the way I think for the rest of my life – and sort the boring from the brilliant.
It’s sex that I cant even be bothered trying to explain with words. The bottom of a shower alcove used to be where I’d sink to in melancholy and now it’s a spot to share happiness with the same lover. It’s falling in love all over again and regret that it cannot be sustained. Luckily the regret isn’t sustainable either.
Poppit makes a wish somewhere for the both of us to stay away from mediocrity. I am scared of mediocrity too. The price I will pay is that I can no longer stand anybody that embodies it. But it’s all subjective anyway.
It’s hanging out on our Williamsburg fire escape watching the Orthodox Jewish kids play on the street and getting stoned with old friends. It’s breaking into apartments to fill the tub with cold water because it’s so hot outside.
Getting lost in the Met, stung by a bee in Central Park, lobster spaghetti, jazz bars and red wine, coffee every morning in Brooklyn, outdoor movie festivals and concerts, pretentious roof top bars with beer, unpretentious roof top parties with cocktails, the Chelsea hotel, lots of breakfasts, reading books on the Highline, earl grey popsicles, lavender donuts. Markets and boys with long hair, dive bars and getting hilariously drunk. Singing Eric Clapton on the street with Poppit playing drums on her legs. It’s so hot, there is always sweat on our legs. The sun is so hot and the air is hot and even the clouds in the air are hot. The mosquitoes stop us sleeping at night and the fans aren’t strong enough. We catch the train to Coney Island (grey, dreary, like a bad summer horror movie) too many times.
When we leave we have had one hour of sleep and there are tears in my eyes, when the universe comes to save the day once again, as usual, and “Funkytown” comes on the taxi radio.

Hangin' out with the kids

2011-08-30T11:12:00.000-07:00

"I feel like this dog most of the time" - Me

Duck

2011-08-27T09:03:00.000-07:00

There are wild ponies that live on the beach here. It’s also called “duck”. We don’t see the ponies, or ducks, but we stay with Tess’ friend on the lake and the house is huge and white and has it’s own jetty. We can finally sleep with windows open and there is a breeze. We take the boat out for an hour, lounge around the pool and eat tacos at the pier watching men play a makeshift game on Kayaks with paddles as swords and trashcan lids as shields. All of the “shacks” here are triple storied and look expensive even though they’re made of wooden slats and haven’t been painted in years. Everything is white and washed out - the sand, the house, the scrubland…There is a lake on one side and the coast on the other.

Nashville

2011-08-25T09:02:00.000-07:00

I am sick in Nashville. We stay out the back of a wedding chapel/B&B. The daughter sells vintage bags. We have our own rooms . There is so much 90s grunge music on the radio and we sing nirvana all night when we hit the town. The bars are cool. There is trivia and live music and we dance to an indie country band and make eyes at skinny. Poppit chases a firefly on the way home and it is the funniest thing I have ever seen.

Memphis

2011-08-23T09:02:00.000-07:00

Everything is starting to blur together. I don’t remember the houses we’ve stayed in as well and can’t differentiate what was where. We drive into the Graceland hotel at 10pm and are stretching our limbs in the guitar shaped pool within half an hour. The water is as warm as the air. The next day is dedicated to Elvis. I say thank you as we pass his grave. Memphis is real music and my first taste of gumbo. The musicians in an outdoor pub on a wooden stage take a liking to us and we escape in the middle of a song whose lyrics they cant change. Escape to the Peabody hotel where we watch the duck march and sleep in prestige. We sit with the children to watch the ducks and I watch the runaways in the hotel room drinking champagne. Bath, hotel, ducks, champagne, inspiration, rock n roll.

Roadtrippin'

2011-08-21T09:01:00.000-07:00

R's driving makes me feel like a fish in a bag of water in the back seat. We are all doing well considering we are starting to grate on one other. I refrain myself from screaming across the roadside diner table at one of my friends “STOP CHEWING LIKE A HORSE” and hope to god that one day her mother will tell her. I'm not easy to live with.
The scenery is lush and green and forest-y. We eat candy and laugh and listen to 90s music and sing our hearts out. We always get a little hyperactive toward the end of the day’s drive while searching for a hotel. We managed to go off course in Pennsylvania around Amish country and ended up driving down lovely lanes around beautiful countryside, fields and national parks as the sun was going down.
On a whim we added in the field where they held Woodstock into our itinerary. On our way we drove through picturesque forests listening to The Who and Janis Joplin, all wearing crochet (it was lame and we loved it) – sun filtered through the open windows and with wind in our hair we passed creeks and lakes with people swimming, tiny charming hillside mountain towns. We also passed a field in the middle of acres of woodland, with trees cut down and abandoned bulldozers. On the biggest one was hanging a huge American flag. Further down the lane, a giant stiletto, like the one from Priscilla, on top of a shed. Americana is so wonderful.

Nawlin's

2011-07-02T19:27:00.000-07:00

New Orleans is the blues and touristy streets that would look amazing if they were deserted. Luckily, on a Sunday, they are and I wander alone to buy a hat and perfume. Shrimp po-boys are eaten alone and I enjoy the men’s frivolity and noise in the fish stalls of the market in the French quarter. Dingy bars nearby prevail and we dance to music played by famous new Orleans TV stars with tattoos. We drink in absinthe bar courtyards and spend time with a freaky ghost tour guide. The house we are in is breezy and long, cool, high ceilinged and we all rest in the afternoons from the 35 degree heat and humidity that we can no longer walk in. It drains us and burns us and sweats through our clothes. The trees of the French quarter provide relief but everywhere else is dried out in the sun. On our last day Louella and I find a coffee shop full of likeminded people and play dominos. There is an openness here and the mingling of old and new, blues and modern, heat and wide roads combine to create a space of acceptance and languor by day, music and dancing by night in the marshy Louisiana right next to the Mississippi river.

Dallas, TX

2011-06-16T09:41:00.001-07:00

The houses are castles and lit from below. Oil tycoons. But there are dive bars and pizza anywhere.

Austin, Texas

2011-06-16T09:35:00.001-07:00

We stay in a guesthouse and have pasta in the garden, swim in brooks and drink in treehouses. Eating from trailers makes us feel American.

Currently in search of

2011-06-13T16:30:00.000-07:00

Seriously though its really hot here, bring on the Austin springs.

Arizona

2011-06-12T10:31:00.001-07:00

Stranded in the desert. Tough chicks get out. Our oasis was an attic in a big blue house.

California

2011-06-12T10:27:00.000-07:00

San Diego

San Diego is sitting on a pier with an old acquaintance and making new friends. It’s trying to steal a dinghy and getting wet feet and opera singing on the boardwalk. It’s peeing in public across from a military base and being with best friends. It’s learning how to be sisters and laugh with nonsense to the point of losing our minds with happiness. It’s $2 tacos in old taverns and cute boys in bad bands. It’s bicycling through suburban peninsulas and singing songs from Now and Then with daisies in our hair and photo opportunities at famous beach resorts in playsuits. It’s picnics with blackberries. It doesn’t get much more idyllic than San Diego.

California Dreaming

Santa Monica pier – pressed pennies, cheap T shirts, mood rings and marilyn munroe lookalikes that turn out to be our friend. Wide open beaches, volleyball players and dogs peeping out from blankets on buses and windows on the embarcadero. Running out of clean knickers is ok in Santa Monica. Adam Sandler seems to be a pattern and we saw Owen Wilson.

Las Vegas

2011-06-06T16:27:00.000-07:00

Unpublishable until I have left the country.

All Abroad

2011-06-04T06:19:00.000-07:00

L.A.

2011-06-01T10:48:00.000-07:00

Los Angeles is a downtown loft apartment with a bed that feels like a cloud and sheer white curtains. "I left my heart in San Francisco" is ready to go on the record player. I lay down for a nap on my first day and feel like I’m in Paris. I’ve spent the first quiet hour I’ve had before retiring reading an article on LA written by a friend of mine. It feels like a sexier version of Less Than Zero and one I can relate to. Does everyone think of California Girls by The Beach Boys when they fly into LA? It’s so sexy I fall asleep daydreaming of the writer meeting me in Vegas. I can’t help it, I haven’t daydreamed in so long I let them get the best of me and I fall asleep wishing I had a room to myself.

I spend the night soaking in the tub singing cabaret songs and draping white face washers over my legs.

I am disoriented and weirded out by Hollywood and the surrounding suburbs but eventually I find an oasis in a well-reviewed café and order Penne Arrabiata and a Bellini. I imagine Johnny Depp coming in and having to sit opposite me due to the lack of tables. The fantasy ends there, I don’t want to push my luck. I do some vintage shopping and meet some likeminded shop assistants who might come to my gig that night. I buy up big and walk toward Melrose against my credit cards better judgment. The sun is out and I can smell jasmine. It feels like home and the streets on either side of Melrose are suburban and green. I get distracted by all of the passing vintage convertibles out on memorial day. I wish I could sit down on the grassy pathway and lose myself in watching and dreaming about them but I fear my thoughts will turn erotic and I plan on losing myself in that image later.

I meet a girl on the bus who is nice. She points out the cool areas of town we go past. “The buildings are so dated, like they’re run down shops designed in the 70s”. “That store is 2 years old” She replies. She is sweet and I give her my email address. I don’t get the chance to explore the cool parts of town.

The night of the show I spend most of the pre and post drinks in Patsy Stone character. I’ve always wanted to do that. I’m proud of how the gig goes and we entertain our fellow performers. An amazing night of burly community and after today I’m starting to feel like I’m getting a grasp on the city. We all go out to the House of Pie for dinner. It feels like the Parisian showgirl life I’ve wanted. Steak and champagne with the crew at 2am. But Pauly doesn’t come. He’s just landed from Vegas. I wonder if it’s true.

The next day is our day out. I see the 90210 houses and relish standing in a place my favorite people have breathed in. I see more parts of LA full of beautiful streets and houses and imagine the family lives they have here. I wonder why they’re based in that particular city and realize that I kind of understand why. It’s something to do with the trees and the jasmine.

I feel like I’ve found the soul of LA and I want to come back and get my hands around the city. It’s a challenge I long to get the chance to accept.

your success = my hips

2011-05-27T02:20:00.000-07:00

My mission

2011-05-25T21:47:00.000-07:00

"He moves...like that....like all the good people"

2011-05-25T19:10:00.001-07:00

Happy Birthday for yesterday.

'Frisco

2011-05-22T21:40:00.000-07:00

 I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
            madness, starving hysterical naked,
     dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
            looking for an angry fix,
     angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
            connection to the starry dynamo in the machin-
            ery of night,
     who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat
            up smoking in the supernatural darkness of
            cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities
            contemplating jazz,
     who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and
            saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tene-
            ment roofs illuminated,
     who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes
            hallucinating Arkansas and Blake-light tragedy


Howl, Allen Ginsberg

2011-05-11T07:40:00.000-07:00

Nearly gone

2011-05-09T04:45:00.000-07:00

"A true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that’s holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. A true soul mate is probably the most important person you’ll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. But to live with a soul mate forever. Nah. Too painful. Soul mates, they come into your life just to reveal another layer of yourself to you, and then they leave. And thank God for it."

Right on, Party hard, Boogie down

2011-05-08T01:36:00.000-07:00

Light Slivers

2011-05-06T20:07:00.001-07:00

"Play it once more Sam"

2011-05-05T01:01:00.000-07:00

Wholesome

2011-05-01T22:31:00.001-07:00

Crystal clear crazy

2011-04-30T07:20:00.000-07:00

Coffee

2011-04-28T21:45:00.001-07:00

‎"She wasn’t doing a thing that I could see, except standing there, leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together"

2011-04-28T00:18:00.000-07:00

Final Three

2011-04-27T21:16:00.000-07:00

For no other reason than these are the most recent images in my pictures folder. Probably has something to do with the shift in weather, and the fact my throat is ripping it up at the moment.
Album Art
Engraving

When will it end. Will anything ever compare?

2011-04-27T00:09:00.001-07:00

Life Fantastic

2011-04-24T22:49:00.000-07:00

"It's how you envelope me between chaos and beauty"

Send Clarity

2011-04-24T20:36:00.000-07:00

Satire Satyr

2011-04-23T04:34:00.000-07:00

Sometimes being open to the new means being open to new interpretations of the old.

Fresh, new...

2011-04-21T05:28:00.000-07:00

And now I have a bath.

Let go. Exhale. Breathe in the colours.

2011-04-20T04:43:00.000-07:00

If I were to take acid right now it would split everything in half. Again. Into the past year and the upcoming year. It would melt twelve months that were productive and successful and full of wonderful people, stories, images and lessons into shades of grey and show me the path in front of me in a myriad of kaleidescopic colours and new perspectives.

Making way for the new and expansive

2011-04-18T03:41:00.000-07:00

By packing away the past.

Rotating Ladies

2011-04-14T17:52:00.000-07:00

Songstresses finding their way recently into my itunes: Margo Guryan, Madeleine Peyroux and Maggie Bjorklund. The similar expression on all their faces and the fact all their names begin with M is completely unintentional but a fantastic coincidence all the same.

Un-Sub-Con-scious

2011-04-14T06:56:00.001-07:00

IM JUST SO DUCKING EXCITED

2011-04-12T05:35:00.000-07:00

Christa Hughes just called me lovertits.

2011-04-11T05:34:00.001-07:00

Kim Manfredi

2011-04-10T22:56:00.000-07:00

"There is a separate entity of the landscape that exists in the human psyche...What is attached to each place is a time which has passed, that carries on through our memory. It is the constant reference that cannot be separated from the image - it is the landscape of the mind." - Brendan George Ko

Ill pay you in pie

2011-04-10T15:30:00.000-07:00

Creative Departures Encouraged

2011-04-10T08:27:00.000-07:00

Since 6:59am

2011-04-07T06:19:00.000-07:00

Anoushkas hours in london as imagined by me on account of lack of actual information.
You unhappily married bike riding gambler, you.

Moustache moustache

2011-04-07T04:19:00.000-07:00

"The fine gentleman exists Legion of Honour, exists moustache, that's all; how happy one must be to be nothing more than a Legion of Honour and a moustache and nobody sees the rest, he sees the two pointed ends of moustache on both sides of the nose; I do not think therefore I am a moustache."
- Jean Paul Sartre

Let me go instead

2011-04-05T03:20:00.000-07:00

Should've sat down and said; I know what station you're getting off at and who you're going to see. Life's easier when you stop getting on that train.

For poppit

2011-04-03T23:57:00.001-07:00

"Student: Guess what? I'm not coming to school tomorrow. Or Thursday. Or Friday. Or Monday. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Or September. Know why? (pause) Cause muh name's Mike."

Happy Birthday Rainbow Girl

2011-04-01T01:10:00.000-07:00

2011-03-30T02:49:00.000-07:00

If they were nice like Penny Lane I'd probably feel differently.

2011-03-29T23:29:00.000-07:00

I have learnt a lot over the past few years about bands...musicians...magicians. I've gravitated toward those who like being on a stage. I read recently that it's because I want to be on stage. It's evidence of living vicariously through those who have the balls to do it. But I do get on stage. I live on stages sometimes. So I thought for a while that I was gravitating toward kindred spirits. But what I've recently discovered is that those male musicians and stage dwellers...they tend to be bullshit. Maybe it's an ego thing. They act how they think rockstars should act. It's weird. I dont want to watch some dude getting a hand job in public from some chick who couldnt even tell me her name. I dont want to introduce myself yet again to people I've already met. I dont want their female friends to look at me like I'm dirt and dispense of me and act as if I'm not even there. I hope its because I threaten them rather than anything else. Thats how much it pisses me off. I dont want to be kindred to them. Being a groupie doesnt make you an artist and being a muse is only respectful if you've got your own thing going on too. And being a singer doesn't mean you should act like a cool bitch. I hope I'm not bullshit just because I like to be on stage too. I want to perform for people who actually believe in peace and dont just pretend to because it makes them look good.

Pretty much everything I have ever thought about rock stars and groupies can be summed up by leslie arfin who says on page 13 of this month's Russh; "For those who can't quite rock - we salute you". I hope shes a kindred spirit.

Aren't they the same thing?

2011-03-28T02:35:00.000-07:00

They say black cats are bad luck. But they're not.

2011-03-27T05:38:00.000-07:00

Cobbity Hobbity

2011-03-27T02:19:00.000-07:00

New obsession with moving to the lush green fields of the country or hills and having a small house and a big dog. And some ducks. Where I can watch the rain, wear dresses every day, sleep with the windows open and maybe learn how to garden.

Playgus

2011-03-25T01:41:00.000-07:00

Hippy town

2011-03-24T01:29:00.000-07:00

Manshattan

2011-03-22T01:27:00.000-07:00

Brink

2011-03-21T03:14:00.000-07:00

"that kind of ecstatic moment of defacement where youre at the brink of your personality falling apart and its delicious. And some are where you fell in and it's not so much fun anymore" - Mary (lula mag) Gaitskill

Anotherhampton

2011-03-21T01:26:00.000-07:00

Southampton

2011-03-20T01:24:00.000-07:00

Faraway lady Solo

2011-03-19T17:00:00.000-07:00

EastHampton

2011-03-19T01:10:00.000-07:00

Rollin' 'N' Tumblin'

2011-03-18T05:29:00.000-07:00

Get your kicks at the Psychedelic Drugstore.