February 2012
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i’ve been taking the F every morning down market when i can, i realized how important it is to see the city in the morning. but it never fails, i always get a little bummed when i’m about two stops away from my destination. because honestly—i could ride the train all day. i totally could.
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i don’t want to write songs, but (maybe, maybe) i want to sing songs again.
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“For those of us from the old Jive Junction crowd who never cared as deeply about contests and prize money as some of our Hollywood brethren, Hal’s philosophy on dancing was a breath of fresh air. We were people who were doing this crazy thing not because it was popular or because it was lucrative or a gateway to stardom, but only because the music just made you go POW… that’s...
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my life is uncontrolled chaos, again.
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8/28/06
there is this thesis floating about me. it has to do with how we bump and scratch all of these people as we move through life. we learn things through them, we pick up new obsessions and tics and appreciations. each one is sort of leaving a post-it note on us as we pass through, most of these post-its come with both dark and light experiences and loves. but we bring every piece of this patchwork...
January 2012
24 posts
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these are not resolutions.
and these are not shoulds.
but these are the things i will do more of in my life, i will make a place for these things, carve out a space for them and not worry about all of the other things i always thought i should be doing.
1) stay up late. (yes, you read that right.)
2) play music.
3) make music. but i’m not going to pressure myself to write songs anymore. i just want to make music,...
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looking at pictures in the distance
because these pictures are places i am tapping into once again, tapping and tripping and falling and bruising and bumping into these things inside that are emerging and breathing and feeling. and they are so good.
someone is pushing me again. in all of the right directions, in all of the right places. and in turn, i will push myself.
10/23/05
and so later in the conversation she says, ...
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revisiting little rituals walking around bends turning corners on the past and filing away memories that haven’t yet been made
placing gently these layers of moments over moments that once spoke deeply to the irons and folds within
i am cautiously carefully creating these rituals
cautiously, carefully pressing deeper into this weight
cautious, careful of where it may lead...
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(when i touch you there's words on your body.)
3/3/06
tittle tattled through a folly dumped lovingly into your palm green hands and shifted vicariously among streets and vacant lots bigger than us and wider than the city
walked harmoniously through slick beaten rain and washed shores above rain coats and waving patterns of wind, i think
i may have ended abruptly used my words to a wounded disadvantage and blazed through your...
DON’T BE AFRAID TO WRITE.
DON’T.
JUST. DO. IT.
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7/14/05
this is what happens when the days are quiet.
when the stifling comes only from what you know is here, but won’t show itself quite yet / when people are telling me not to be so silly, that my words will prove me wrong / i’ll meet someone and get all gooey and ga ga and barf all over the carpet / i’ll stop listening to songs by trespassers william and i’ll close my eyes so...
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living the dream.
having one of those days where all i do is get coffee and buy groceries and run errands and fall madly in love just a little bit more with my beautiful city.
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“I wouldn’t trade my day-drinking sessions, block parties, or dive bars for...”
– the bold italic