ugh.ill.yuck.

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At work, there's a gnarly, black sink drain hole that I keep accidentally jamming my index finger into.
I know it's there, I try to avoid it, but I jam my finger in. This should be a metaphor for something or many things but really, I can't take much more analysis.


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Be Sunflower Tall

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beefcrotch

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Woman grabs her crotch and yells "I've got your BEEF RECALL right hea!"

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WOOFing

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I daydream I fall and give that laughing, entreating look like Chrissy Snow in the opening credits. I see a wolfish dog on the street, with piercing blue eyes. I turn my head away and imagine he is mauling my leg like a beef shank. But really, it is just something in his eyes.




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this is why i never blog.

EL:ele

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Rats. Hyesoon on Bart. Almost skating open toed on shit sidewalk.
How vulnerable the toes.Trucks five inches from. Vectors and other sharp stray teeth. Suddenly, glass/Transparency of the broken, refracted, stained. I miss you in sleep, Brooklyn with your myopia and sunburns.










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forest parts

i had fun making it. collaging makes me want to write more. writing makes me want to collage more. the two forms that i formerly considered to be diametrically opposed are working together. ain't that cool?

purge II collage

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I'm finally collaging again. It feels wonderful.
Why ever the dance of abnegating?
This can be so frustrating.
I collect bits and parts and strips and they sit in boxes.
Well, the time has come to purge.

Thought I'd post some old collages to help with the necessary letting of the old/begetting of the new.
(Speaking of new, did you know that the sign for new is a scooping motion?)
I love this.

I may post other collages in weeks to come, as I feel motivated to decongest the creativity particles.

Woman Triptych
Mixed Media, 2005

REMOVE THIS STUB was made for a Mixed Media and the Photographic Image class, which was taught by Gillian Spragens, also in 2005.

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something like autobiography

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My memories are of street fights.
Milk glass.
Gummy blobs on the sidewalk.


Errant urchins.
A wish frustrated.


Brother and sister tag teams in front of "our" house.
Agonal gutter rainbows.


Sidewalk made cheeks and knees rubble.
Landscape for pretending.


Why were we always fighting.
Filled up with breaking light.


Sometimes we played stoopball,
sometimes we rollerskated,
sometimes we punched each other in the face.



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xes and oes

why would one try to diagram ecstasy?

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Every body is sweating on the bus but no one is complaining.












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35 about me - which I never got around to publishing on FB and now it would be an annoyance and so i'm thinking it's a way to reenter the wilderness.

a context, a culling:

I was tagged a few times and decided to use the form as an exercise for writing a memoir. i was also reading my life by lyn hejinian, and became very interested in the idea of telling one's story by way of alternating perspectives.

i feel that we are by turns insects, birds, idiots. we are pieces of songs scribbled in journals, pieces of family, memory, yesterday's breakfast, gas station signs, and gashed knees. we are bits and parts and effluvia and heartbreak and so much more.

this is an attempt to capture some of that so much more.

1. “Conceived in the idiom of the instrument.”[i]

2. Sound of arm or wing flapping.

3. Toys under couch cushions, dirty ashtrays and silenced music.

4. Getting her adult feathers. Picked on, plucked off.

5. Lots of stares at my tiger umbrella.

6. My plant-life fell off the back of a truck.

7. Simple, green bean.

8. Egress, dotard.

9. Herky jerky heart parts.

10. Acacia leaves.

11. Ant parts in the soap.

12. In the shower forgetting my dance moves.

13. Afraid to become her.

14. Bells of an ice cream truck.

15. I’m being self-indulgent and I like it.

16. Tube feet, whoosh whoosh.

17. I’m 35 and I have never owned a car.

18. Ambidextrous, slanted writing.

19. I am going to die before I finish.

20. No patience for chitchat.

21. I just ate a whole bag of pita chips.

22. High school dropout, failed cheerleader.

23. Pillbug, echinoderm.

24. Also, her and her and her.

25. Three or four a day fat during punchball.

26. Woe, bluebell.

27. Gun, Wing, Skull.

28. Eco-friendly collision center.

29. Pink Floyd and french fries.

30. I’m not going in there. There’s responsibility in that room.

31. Deciduous, show enough face pattern to separate.[ii]

32. Radiolarian when exponent.

33. The elephant stepped on the molasses.

34. Crumbling irascible.

35. Mountain a silly dress I wear.

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[i] Gizzi, Peter. The House that Jack Built: The Collected Lectures of Jack Spicer. University Press of New England: 1998.

[ii] Robbins, Chandler S.; Bruun, Bertel; Zim, Herbert S. A Guide to Field Identification Birds of North America. Golden Press: 1966.

Welcome friends, to the sounds of insects.

yesterday at lakeside park, i lay in the grass for a rare, calm moment.
opened eyes, grass, humming and buzzing, itching but happy.
on the walk home, a tick on my shoulder.
next time, i must remember to spray MYSELF with the insect repellent, not just Phoenix.
anyway, i take it as a reminder to further my insect studies.
o, coleoptera, how you break my heart!