Monday, January 31, 2011

i wanna show you something..

I don't usually care for pictures of myself. I don't usually have them done by a photographer. However, these pictures are quite beautiful! Stunning even...This is my band, Wild Talents. We are the resident band at MOTR Pub this month, January. Tonight is our final Monday and we are so excited about the opportunity to play there all month! How kind of them to offer! I love MOTR! The atmosphere and the people there are so different from any of the other bars in our town. Our friends, new and old, are the very best!

Justin Warrick took these photos! He is friends with ourw friends, The Kickaways. We are very grateful to him for such kick ass pictures!

I hope I get to see you tonight!

Monday, January 24, 2011

just a thought.

Kissing in the rain, a back alley, New Orleans, we mingle with rain and moonlight. True romance with throw away kids, so different from the land of the livings cliches..Drenched, running to the closest tavern, a night of debauchery ahead! Vampire kids in the basement drinking red wine and laughing, wanting to be undead, failing miserably at it. The squalor around us is home.

A safe spot, parked gondola, a cassette player and whiskey. Drinking alone again, I'm caught and twisted. Love isn't working, whiskey's not working, morphine's not helping, I'm hopeless and homeless in strange cities.

Park bench bunk beds, cardboard mattresses, bugs in my hair, formaldehyde in my cigarettes, this is not the New York I dreamed of. Riots lost their mystique and boys have lost their charm. Cars on fire are just cars on fire. My heart is empty and I need a fix.

Japanese businessmen like pretty girls and will take you to Thai dinners and give you money,
if you bathe first.

Wading through fire makes the skin weak, then tough, making strong mothers of daughters. Dead bodies tell no tales, but the ones who live write poetry.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

love affair

The beginning of the affair was on a Sunday. I distinctly remember this because my to do list slowly became undone. A fascination built inside & it grew until my mind no longer contained it, but, instead, I wrapped up inside it and let it consume me. As with most of my obsessions, I expected it to be short lived. Forget dishes and grocery store trips, I am in my head and all other ideas are lost.

Around 15, I held my first guitar, not my own, but a lovers. Heavy and solid, it hung loosely around my body. Awkward and unsure of what to do with it, I found my fingers lightly strumming over the metal strings, fascinated. Mostly by the musician, not particularly the instrument. I like the way it moans under pressure, but i like the way he moans under pressure more. The humming of a hot body next to mine, groping, finding the softest spots, the ones that make him buck a little. Entwined briefly, all energy exerted into thrusts and sweat pours. The after, laying on the soft grass, watching clouds roll by and the sun drenches us when we step out of the shadows, a secret between us.

Sitting on the foot of my bed, listening to records, he whispers the words to the songs, lightly sings into my ear. Every sense perks up, swallowing words, broken promises meant for someone else. The same words I'd heard, only different when spoken by a long haired boy who plays a guitar. Records became something powerful there in my room. The boy changed, others came, but only the ones who played guitars stayed.

At the foot of a much different bed, I rest the weight on the tops of my legs and stare down at this new lover, so daunting to me. Unlike the others, he managed to captivate me for a lifetime. I am unsure where our relationship stands, too much fear entangled in the love, but today, I am going to break him. Turning it up a notch, I strum my fingers slowly across his strings. All of the skills my hands know won't help me now,so my practice begins. If I have my way, he will fall just in love with me as I am with him, my guitar.

love in the woods!

I don't feel the need to really say anything. I just watched this more times then I wnt to admit and then called Matt and made him watch it, too. Wow!

Saturday, January 22, 2011

a daunting task

Dancing in public is a daunting task! It didn't used to be...
but standing around looking like I don't care isn't an option. So, I dance. Maybe a little more each time...maybe it's the Rock N Roll Revolution happening in our fair city or I just love to dance. Whatever it is, I'm gonna make sure my feet aren't too cold to move around. I just love getting my ass kicked by a loud and dirty rock that wrong? nope.

The Dukes HD 1

This is what my Rock n Roll looks like..loud and kinda dirty!

Thursday, January 20, 2011

snow days should be called sew days..

I am sewing today. The Owlys here are experimental- using repurposed fabrics, mostly stretchy and learning how to use fabric that pulls around and out of the shape I want it to conform to. Difficult lessons were learned and technical challenges were met. I will post them on my Etsy shop today.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Free Love

My mother calls to talk about actors and actresses, wearing gowns and jewels with updo hair and expensive habits. They are all too skinny and on drugs she frets. Yes, they probably are, I concur.
"he didn't even get nominated."
"who didn't?"
"jeff so and so."
"that is the guy from Dumb and Dumber, mom."
"you know who I mean."
I do know who she means. Mulling over each award, recalling the recipients outward appearance, a running commentary begins. My brain works to recall the movies being awarded, both by my mother and the Academy. I haven't seen most of them and don't think I want to. The names of the ones I want to see pour off her tongue like bitters.
"artsy garbage..homos.."
Like acid dripping onto the hood of a car, metal bubbles and oozes. Puffs of acrid smoke rise up from the burn, filling the air with the smell of chemicals and suffering. Pictures of burnt Oscars and charred couture gowns fill my head. She is talking.
"She is obviously on drugs and he is so skinny, so I bet he is, too. And they are getting another kid. Who would want 7 kids? How do they take care of them?"
I am wishing we were talking about people we both actually know, that the concern for children's safety and drug habits were reserved for the people I see every Sunday night. Reality close instead of bubbles floating far off, untouchable.
"A lot of people take drugs, Mom. Even famous people. They are all junkies. Half the people in this grocery store are prescribed something and no one is questioning whether or not they can raise 7 kids."
The thought could become an obsession, but it won't. There isn't enough space in my head or time in my day...

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

the truth

That lady, the one who left her baby burning on a radiator all night in KY, she could be me. Or I could be her. She may be someone you know. Today, she sits in a jail while 4 other children are scared, scarred and motherless.The baby may not be alive on Earth, but she is safe now. A family is torn apart and once the lady isn't full of pills and booze, she will want to die, too. Torn into little tiny pieces, drifting between sad and angry

Ephesians 2:10, "For we are God's masterpiece..." (NLT)

Monday, January 17, 2011

there's a spider on your arm...

I was sitting very still, listening. The row of folks behind me were rustling around and I was sure they could tell I hadn't brushed my hair. It was almost as if I was listening so hard the words were lining up in little rows, filing into my ears. I could picture them, each one in large font, floating off the lips of the speaker, up into the air, swirling a little before they made their way into my eager ear... the left one. A few would escape out the other side, my right ear squeezing them out like puffs of smoke from an overworked machine.

That's what I was thinking about when the fuzz started. Small at first, it built in my left ear canal- the words were wiggling! Squirming, rolling around in there! I hope they aren't escaping, I thought. Then came the scream. Loud, in that way girls scream in horror movies. Not the girls in horror movies. The girls watching horror movies. In the theater, clutching boyfriends arms real tight. That kind of scream. Right behind me. I was about to turn around when I felt it- a long touch on my left cheek, light, but noticeable. Than another one. I reached my hand up to the side of my head and felt it- rough and hairy, like small tree branches from a willow tree. It was stretching out of my ear, long legs first followed by it's body. My hand counted six outstretched, spiny legs. The other two hadn't quite made it out yet, but I knew they would and she'd be fully visible to everyone.

The girl behind me wouldn't stop screaming and had been joined by most of the row by now. I had been consumed, minding my own affairs and trying to be inconspicuous as possible, but when a large arachnid climbs out of your ear, other people panic. Well, depending on the company, of course.

I was no longer invisible and there was sure to be a scene. A large uncomfortable scene, one I hadn't expected and one I hadn't scripted, much less prepared for. I don't know why I hadn't. This had been happening for many months now, just never in church before. Before now. Right now. I can't panic...just act normal. I reached up with both hands and cupped the aggravated arachnid in my hands and put her into my lap. She curled up like a kitten and let me stroke her shaking body. I had a thought to kiss her, but it passed as quickly as it came.

The speaker had stopped and the congregation was bustling. The screaming girl had fainted and the row had taken to consoling her. Before the mad scramble began, I gathered up my coat and scarf, wrapping the latter around the spider who now seemed so harmless and small. We walked. Past the staring eyes and hand cupped whispers, small words forming opinions that floated up into the air,like dust and dainty balloons and stars. I waved them away with my hand, not wanting either of us to hear them. Behind us, they hung there in the air momentarily before they found other eager ears to fill and I knew I would not come back there again. Too many words to battle without a proper sword. I thought of Joan of Arc and Heresy...

Monday, January 10, 2011

i'm not the only one who dreams of gypsy wagons...

Who knew there were so many resources and other people not only loving and dreaming of gypsy wagons...vardos...routelles..

there are so many beautiful ones out there! and plans for building them..but, to my chagrin, there is very little history and almost nill when it comes to the traveling stage made popular in medieval times...

still searching, but my dreamy little heart is considering construction and the many possible uses for my gypsy wagon.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

fantastic voyage

I have a new idea brewing and I can't help but be excited by has been building for a time now. Let me show you where it comes from...

a fascination..of gypsy caravans and traveling sideshows..performances and handmade art collaboration within a family.

my dream is building one of these and then traveling in it, sharing the country with my family and creating masterpieces within it's walls.

I am a dreamer...

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

there is a light and it never goes out....

Proverbs 16:2-3, "
All a person's ways seem pure to them, but motives are weighed by the LORD. Commit to the LORD whatever you do, and he will establish your plans." (NIV)

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

love a good story...

My story is long and complicated to the outside world. To me, my part was perfectly written...

Psalm 107:2-3, "
Let the redeemed of the LORD tell their story— those he redeemed from the hand of the foe, those he gathered from the lands, from east and west, from north and south." (NIV)

Monday, January 3, 2011

denying God is not an option...

Sometimes, I need help.

Today is that day.

Psalm 27:8, "My heart says of you, 'Seek his face!' Your face, Lord, I will seek." (NIV)

He gave me everything and asks for so little in return. How easily I am strayed and how easily I forget...