Sunday, July 10, 2011

The View

The view from my slimy orbs holds close in region.
A ticking clock is held close due to bad vision.
While the vision is poor, the view is rich.
Dark green trees lit from the sun, clouds
in the direct distance, not touching our reached out fingertips.
No chance of rain, No chance of pain. No possibility
of any negative uses of words.
No angry drizzles on our happy mountains.
Just funky feelings and calm eyes, breezy conversation
to fuel a deeper prize.

Monday, June 20, 2011

January Words.

Lips like sherbet. Sherbet kisses.
Inhales and exhales from Luna's lungs guide my lead on lined paper. 
Roof sunset sessions remind us of how lucky we are to live
so close to the wavy blue. The sun sets too early, we know. Still, the blankets,
hot tea, and camera keep us in the appreciative mood.
Oranges like ice cream and pinks like nail polish, our sun is performing
only for us. We are the only ones watching the magic show.
Magic mountains so clear they seem much closer.
Malibu is a little cookie. I break off the piece that's jutting out and snack
on it while my Luna contemplates whether or not it is Tuesday. 
Yoga tomorrow. My first. Release.

Saturday, April 30, 2011

My black sand beaches and my white water rapids.

Arroyo Burro.




Dancing weds.

Murk Ink.


Watching you work.

Big home.

Angel face.




Creepy basement.

The lovely Kriss Light performing in Venice Beach.

Brother bear ripping it up.

The Darlings performing in Redondo Beach.

Green Belt.


Bromancing Buds.

Tim Mcllrath of Rise Against in Long Beach.


Cousin in the wind.

Railroad Revival.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Looking Forward

As far as all the back stabbing goes, of course I'm undeserving. I'm too nice for my own good and I just keep on learning to continue to not trust anyone even more so than I did before. The anxiety is finally starting to subside. I'll be leaving these things in the past and focusing more on the good stuff:

Tonight- the cure all- live music. I'm going with my cousin to see 3 of the favorites. 2 since I was a kid. It really doesn't get much better than that. Oh but wait, it definitely does.

April 10th- my sister's b-day. Nothing beats a family celebration. But, then again, maybe something does.

April 14th-18th- an adventure with my best ladies. This adventure includes 3 days of music-loving and smiling and dancing. Not to mention the beers and the camping and the tangerines and lots of ice and sunscreen. Ahh Coachella, you'll never get old.

April 22nd- Railroad Revival. Definitely life-changing. 3 amazing bands. I can't wait to hop around and slap my knee. Happy birthday Shelly.

While these are all the most amazing parts of my month, I'm also completely and entirely excited for my cousin Aura to visit in May. We haven't seen each other in years but she is definitely the East Coast version of me. We are going to have the best adventures together ever.

I love to live this life for me. I have to be selfish because every time I'm not, I get screwed over. This won't be happening anymore. At least, I hope not. If I don't live MY own life then I'm living other people's lives. I spend so much time trying to make everyone happy that I end up being miserable. I'm not sorry anymore. In the almighty and powerful words of Cartman, "I do what I want."

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Stranger than most.

What do you think about leaping off a building?
I don't think about leaping off a building.
Yes you do.
No. I try to think of nice things.
 Everyone thinks about leaping off a building. Everyone.
Well, I certainly don't think about thinking about leaping off a building. 
They say--I read this in this fantastically depressing book--that when you jump from a building, it's rarely the impact that actually kills you.
Well, I'm sure it doesn't help. 
There's a . . . There's a photograph in it, a photograph, from the L.A. Times around forty years ago. Called "The Leaper". It's old but, it's beautiful. From above the corpse of a woman who had just leapt to her death. There's, there's blood around her head . . . like a halo. And her leg is  . . . buckled underneath her. And her arm has snapped like a twig. But her face is so serene. So at peace. And I think it's because when she died . . . she could feel the wind against her face.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

"I write to remember."

I know you so well,
even used to your feet smell.
Riding, sighting, biding, gliding,
so accustomed to all the fighting.
Now we poke fun and slightly fight,
taking the mind games to a new height.
We pick each others' scabs just to watch each other bleed.

Blah blah blah Pauly D's blowout is super silly but at
least he has the greatest personality on the real-
ity. I give up on rhyming
when I do not have the timing.
It keeps me restricted when I want to run free.
I don't wear these feathers to sit in a cage.
I wear them to fly off this damn page.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

I fall in love everyday.

I am in love. This beautiful 4 year old knows what Jesse Jackson is talking about as she passionately bangs on her chest. We are all somebody special.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Vintage Love.

Road warriors.
Cat's cradle.
Jean Brusselmans, Thunderstorm, 1938.
A playful Elvis and Sophia Loren.
Gypsy Rose Lee.
"I'll let you be in my dreams if I can be in yours," -Bobby D.
"Picture of a beauty queen."-Madonna
Grace Kelly
These are the size pockets a modern girl needs when she's drunk and too tired from dancing. 
Paint This.
Mary Nolan
Lost innocence. 
Study time. It's cool to be smart. 
Lost in time.
I want one.
Of course the Twigs.