Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Eve's LiveJournal:

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Wednesday, June 18th, 2008
11:26 pm	Sitting on my mama's ill-ass-suited chair, one with an obvious wooden skull of a square-head, where the leather upholds the holstery tight, while the padding has a party in the middle. The Cat, dreaming of ?(persia rats prolly) watches me alchemize, clearly close to solstice, on a big condo balcony, packed like sardine mules with mama's botanical pet puppets, a windy bowl. And she sees I'm clearly sweating (a crafted blend of a sour crowd, elite in the age of aquarious and febreeze, my lil pheremone buddies are having a soiree. No not like the pheremone is just some chemical that makes another chemical in the opposite sex actually move, through an infinite array of lingual thinking, damn that person's alluring, to convincing food to kick up a stink in your thigh muscles that then physically go walk over and say (say, say what? did you know there was a shape in nature that can think itself into being and then shift into any shape and also convince another couple of shapes to morph, one becoming a shape that can pull, push, and hold a lighter, faster shape, such as air, and the shape of my lungs, whirling garden mills, nudging wind over the world's next top my model, the living sculpture of my voicebox, who poses so fast and fine, even in hoarse and slurry times when I'm looking for my take-me-to-the-toilet legs and all I'm finding is my pants),"hi." for where it is advantageous for me to smell like some hot funk, it is also advantageous for that hot funk itself, as being, well, like kefir really, countless microscopic lives evolving beside each others rhythms, in the tropical paradise of my pits (I use Dr.B as my 18 in 1) surely learned it is a lawn best left unmown, when prom persuasions of the mothersister had me sending my tender brown wavelets to venus with some petroleum enlarged shard of steel scraped against the whoville for sure of my buried treasures. you saw her beaver? no you fool, her armpit! I'm using this time of singularity, not as a poke at the old joke of seduction, but as a sifting of the possibilities of silence (uhumrrrwriting) but meanwhile, if you catch a drift of my wild attire, attitude, and odor, man, woman, child, elder, i urge you to indulge. our culture may have superficial mixed bags of feelings about sex and dirt, but I can assure you, both are benevolent as the G itself. I like painting rainbows with gold-themed potlucks under them much better than I like building nameless-neighbor barbed-wire fences to sit up high on, too haughty for men or women, too scared to plunge into such weighty waters of either side, uncommitted in a time of avalanche. so what sex of person do you want between you and the sunrise in you're bedroom? and just because I look gay, doesn't mean I am, does it? (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, April 27th, 2008
5:44 pm	this april day is warm and grey i got too much food in me for how sluggish i feel. yesterday sue and i drove in the old red mazda to see a man about some sausages. i didn't say a heck of a lot, but sometimes i like to just listen. fairly fascinating. then i biked to the farmer's market and it was so sunny and nice out and i wore my red velvet shorts cause i shaved my legs for the first time in 2-3 years. weird. saw caitlin and leah and tina and nova and slade and ate a dumpling. then bronwyn came and we hung out and she bought basil and sunchokes and wind-chimes/sweet-leather-belt/silver-toe-ring skookim deal from funny man. and then we bought a sausage and the bearded flour man gave us a free stick of bread when we bought a yummy hazelnut nut roll from him. then we had a picnic/nap and i drew. biked down the greenway with bronda's windchimes chimming on her cycle. fed played with goats. bronda whipped up a salad. blankets grass sunshine crafts, bracelets, ankle warmers. sarah p came for a bit then they left and i napped for an hour or so in the sun. james robinson came and i was kind of out of it and he felt awkward cause no one else was there so i sent him home and went inside, but then heather and jordon showed up on bikes and so he stayed and we all walked down to the creek with sunset and it was fantastic and we played in my neighbors majestic willow, came back to the house munched and there was some guitar playing and discussion and caitlin came and we drank wine. then we decided to ditch my party and head downtown to the habitat. cait and i drank wine in her parked car and smoked some bowls. didn't really know very many at the habitat it seemed at first but still wanted to dance. drank some cocktails. then meshaz came. and a bunch of us walked down to city park in the night and swang, had some whiskey shots. meshaz and i walked around downtown for a long time, i fucking lost my i spooned kimya dawson hat, went to see tim jamming outside rose's. ended up at the bates motel where i drank shots of whatever was handed to me. vodka, whiskey. got pretty plastered and hung out, danced a bit, talked shit in the kitchen and made tin--foil names, vomited not really in the toilet and was pretty much passed out when meshaz found me. lovely early morning drunk couch cuddle interspersed with weird dreams, bird song and loud girl. hung in the hammock for a bit while ryan hansen climbed the tree above me. wandered off by myself, singing the sidewalks, had tea at the bean, sat with nova and tina. wandered to got some soup at mad mango. met a really cool old man who had lots of crazy stories. bumped back into meshaz, him and ryan and mark were heading to camp k.l.o for hockey so i hitched a ride. felt hungover and didn't want to play. sat on the empire of dirt for awhile then walked home and had a nappy bath. i don't want to work tomorrow, or the day after that. i'm so done. i think tom left today for tree-planting. sianara. Current Mood: groggy (Comment on this)
Wednesday, April 16th, 2008
11:41 pm	i get swept up reading cd inserts from my dad's rock steady collection, too late on wednesday. my body is tired, i've been milking it for all it's worth lately. today i worked in keetle valley with april and the new girl sarah, then drew for a long time in the rabbit and beside the rabbit in the sun. biked down to see if i could see some friends. hung out with two incredible artists drinking wine smoking a joint. went to a show at habitat. cheesy scone boys. sweeeeet movies that made me happy. i'm 21 these days, whoa hey? i miss writing terribly. my life is intense these days.. no time for sleep or laundry, shopping, planning for the future. i'm realizing that the choices i make now and in the next five years, will be taking the reins of a certain random direction of life. whether or not i choose to go back to school. whether or not i move out. whether or not i travel. whether or not i keep smoking and drinking. whether or not the political social economic situation on our planet does/doesn't implode how we react to that implosion. whether or not i have babies. who the heck am i going to have babies with? it'll be random and crazy and hard and happy. that's how life is. meanwhile, i'll try to hail down some health and subsequent happiness. food is unsubstantial fuel! or at least what they call food in supermarkets. Current Mood: exhausted (Comment on this)
Monday, March 17th, 2008
11:17 pm	Writer's Block: Happy St. Patrick's Day! How are you celebrating St. Patrick's Day? View 500 Answers I had a sweet st. pat. Woke up at 6 it was still dark dashed over to my aunts pad (i'm bleeddinng on my ponnts....) to grab some bread, cooked two old farmers breakfast, Abra(kadabra)I GET IT!!! enjoyed housework, homework. sewed fabric memories onto a sweater and listed to CBC88.9. drove to glenmore to get hay with sue. load/unload. (23 lambs and counting) crazy potluck, rio, ezra and ruthie came, love those folks lots. i got a little frazzley. oh haha, at least i'm starting to realize and can life, came down and chilled with tennessee and shon who were playing key to the city. i finally fully converted my bedroom into a sewing room. took matters into my paws. rolled a tornado pinner and tucked the chickens in, touched a tree, fell into it readily, puffed steadily blue night clouds. (it's amazing how far movemont 'illgitcha) tom, i bought a jacket that reminds me of you. mom, my myface hurts more when i use those magic lotions you gave me, but i still love you. shit and death. two things modern man(man as in modern men) holds in such disbelief and embarrassment that he can't e'n enjoy it in you're fanciest fully-automated stainless-steel porta-potties or the strongest concrete metal casket, "so i ne'er fuckin rot!" the monkey steals scissors from the vet's belt, gives himself a mohawk, steals a kid's ipod through the zoobars, is a dancing fool, sets the sex limbo bar and jives on under. the hundredth monkey after him is laughing from the rich eletric jolt of his ancestor's knowledge. i'm first generation canadian. the first monkey in my backyard, speechless at the beauty of the plants. all poets should have the chance to SING OUT their songs. (but panic strikes when baby squirmy vulnerable worm of acne vulagris (the vulcan, volcano) strikes) lets sew a pocketful of peacefulness onto the hip of this old valley (bumpy on bikes, westside rd) (the first documented sightings of the ogopogo were coincidently by white settlers) this valley dudes, ultra sacred. so we're gonna have enough time to situn play guitars (or handmade stringed beasts named willows) under trees named willows, we'll have long to have long long hair ( snipt my bangs in shower cleaned with bleach-based prodos) im sik o grmr, and our lungless language, computerz' buz', the world wide web (JUST THINK,we are both the spider and the fly) the world's gonna be really small again soon, are you going to brace yourself against stone? or shuffle to accommodate the beast. (Comment on this)
Monday, September 3rd, 2007
5:46 pm	i could say i'm a shitty drinker and i never learn my lessons and i may never learn my lessons for my whole life. but i could also say, that i get drunk to the point of passing out and vomiting in people's basements shows i think alcohol (and the world) is innocent. that i am still innocent. that i'm still childishly curious. that i know there's something valid in intoxication. that i just might learn one day what my limit is, but the fact that i don't, just shows that i don't drink enough to figure it out, that i'm wild, that i'm crazy-free: free to be crazy. that i'm passionate about it all. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 28th, 2007
9:56 pm	philosophized too hard and hurt myself.... i feel it is time to update. whoa intense times. cherry picking over, will i ever do it again?! tom and i kinda broke up for a bit but never really and now i guess we are together but i'm not really going to think about. i can't right now. it feels good right now. that's all i can say. who knows, who knows. i tried to explain it to a friend and realized i couldn't and realized how much pressure social explaniations and expectations and assumptions place on a relationship when really they are totally complex and not so black and white. don't ask me about it. i thought i wanted to be single. and i kind of do. but i oh so damn badly wanna love somebody and be loved too. i've become increasingly obsessed about my acne, or obsessed about trying to heal it, or cure it, trying new modes that i previously deemed too conventional or something. ugg. the thing is, it doesn't matter when you become totally fed up with something, that doesn't mean it's going to go away, you still have to endure it, so there's no difference. i wish my mother (or anybody!!) would have made more of an effort to educate me and help me out about this whole thing earlier, like maybe ten years ago when i hit puberty, maybe i wouldn't have such a plethora of scars today. i wonder if i'll ever wear make up everyday when i'm older and more womanly. i love being womanly. i finally love my tits. about five days ago i smoked some ganja with thomas and it has totally fucked me up. in the past i've often experienced getting a numb mouth when i smoke and sometimes numb hands, but it has never lasted longer then the high. now it's been five days of hardly being able to feel anything "real" in my hands and my whole body is just this electric lump of energy, or everything that i touch feels just like electricity. what the fuck. i went for a massage it did nothing. what does it mean?!?! i've been racking my head about it, and now i'm sick because when my nerves decided to warp my immune system did too. is it possible that i philosophized too hard about bodily sensations and actually physically altered and damaged my nerve endings?!?! what the fuck. all these body problems right when i thought i was finally starting to get to know myself and my body. it makes me totally bummed. why the fuck did nobody in this world tell me that there was such thing as Fertility Awareness?!?! i learn it exists right when i am fed up with sex and want nothing more to do with it. i've signed up for wwoof canada. i have no idea where i'll end up with it. hopefully it'll be inspiring, at this point that's all i can hope for. Current Mood: aggravated (Comment on this)
Thursday, August 2nd, 2007
6:28 pm	went to the bean yesterday and sat with a woman from regina and her son and his friend (bike racers.) i went to the park and hung out with coco and sam, the blissful fairy tree-climbers. talked with victor temprano. went for a skinny dip by my lonesome at my little place by paul's tomb. went to the art house for a bbq. it was alot of fun...great people live there whose lifestyles i respect upmostly. but i feel like alot of the same issues come up everytime i get high, i'm having trouble working past them, moving on from past fears. will thc perpetually be associated with paranoia in me?? i came home to really fast black spiders in my bed. "do not fear the universe..." inner progress is a choice, it is a choice to listen to inner wisdom, listen to the bones that are steadily, clearly saying yes to some things and no to others. to trust that wisdom when there are so many external temptations telling me to stay at the party or to eat more or to worry. i have to move on. i have to move out. i need new footstep pattern routines. i have to take more advantage of the fact that i am able to create my own reality, that my consciousness can effect things. i've got a lot of old hurts from when i was kid that i need to heal up, heal up and move on. it's amazing how potent childhood is in forming us! tom should be back any moment i think. i'm going through a whirlwind of emotions related to that. anticipation, joy, fear, curiosity. i will now try mutlitasking: loving tom AND myself, at the same time. possible??!?! god damn i should hope so. i'm grateful for this time apart, i haven't been this intune with my body and feelings for a long, long time. it is crazy to think that at this time last year all i could think about was dying. i've cleaned my room so that tom (or anyone else) may have a place to sit and relax and chill with me and listen to music or whatever like a room should be. i love that little room i must admit, it is a comfortable womb, and that is why i must leave, must birth myself out of it, because if you stay in a womb for too long it becomes your tomb. moving out where? in kelowna? coco said her and couple of people are trying to find a place for the fall, asked me if i'd be interested. janell and elise are moving to victoria, victoria? me, living there? who would have thought? then there is vancouver, the rain city, with the streets i know already and the ones i don't, that mother and sister of mine, nope, today i don't want to move to vancouver. i shouldn't need to say this, but can someone please remind me throughout the next months, years, lifetime, to not fucking forget my dreams?! remind me about teaching children, making children, making clothes, remind me about mexico, about organic farming, kayaking through the gulf islands, watching the aurora borealis in yellowknife, biking far and wide, learning yoga, singing freely, hiking the grand canyon. how could i let myself forget my dreams? they are important. and never ever should being in a relationship with someone compromise following my dreams. in blissful ideal theory, which is utterly possible, there should be no conflict. love and love should always be compatible. what a ride this life is. what a ride. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, July 22nd, 2007
9:01 am	reflections on jasmines 20th birthday party old woman: speak to me through the memory of observer. to be me regardless. it feels a sad dramatic life to worry. you can leave (the room) when you're old enough. what is zen? when there is no distinction between sensation, matter and thought? is it when you can fill a hooka bottle up with thought and smoke it? smoke as a medium. thought as a medium. all my cells alive, divine, dancing. it is being the old woman, neither queen nor peer, a rocking chair woman, arthritic palms too old to need a pen, thoughts calmly roll. so much sex automatics naturally flicking around youth. so much social complexity. and to be the menopausal old woman, sex drive diminished calmly, laughs gentle at the kiddies (us). to radiate beauty from the inside, no matter what is going on on the outside. to be egoless, to judge not yourself or others, to be free of sticky social codes, to not be pressured by them, to essentially dissolve one's need for them, to watch and participate in the environment fully aware, to listen and smile and love, love regardless, prove nothing, and learn how to respond to mediocrity, because it is not, it is the quirkiness of humanity slowly quirking along. to play along, to participate, without submitting, without compromising honesty, not to humor someone by saying what they hope you'll say, what you'd say if you were following the social handbook of the evening, but to humor them from a deeper, simpleier, humbler, place, a place of acceptance and laughter and calm. to set the vibe dial to mellow, cause we have that choice, we are the creators of our environments. social norms, social norms, why i gotta get all these conformist jitters? these little things we do and say, flirtations, our relationship to fermented liquids, facebook. their funny! i mean odd, i mean one in a million that life is like THIS instead of something else completely. and my little black dress, headscarf, mascara, what beautiful woman am i? as in my dream, i became a nudist readily. i am my mother and my father. i am a careful, unconfident artist with my conversations. analyzed caution mixed with fear and judgment makes for weak love structures, when i am sure strong ones are possible. it's like we are building houses out of plastic, when we could be making them out of mud. we are all a little worried, no? is it not the oddest state of affairs? i tip toe and tremble over my words, i cannot fake interest or approval or passion, i cannot escape this seething jungle of judgment. can i find an in between? can i laugh instead? i know general existence has sensitive whiskers to negative energy, we are responsible. to love and be loved, to love and be loved, to love and be loved. to say thank you somehow, and that is purely social too, that's social's side that we should lean on, from the heart, from the heart, from the heart. and if my vocals are a pandoras box of unformed treasures, let me form them, slowly, let me carve them like a craftsman, the details of loving humanity, always listening and breathing. impressing? convincing? approving? we can dismantle these reactions, can't we? "what have you been doing the past 2 years?" are you really interested? i'm not. that was in the past, different lives i lived all together, the past is universal, i cannot claim it as my own, my memories are as good as books and movies and sure, if i did what i did than even if i can't associate myself with it, even if i can't remember it, it still is a part of me in some way, and i'm content with that. i feel dishonest when i play into peoples cravings for "news". but when someone asks what i've been up to and i say i don't feel like talking about it, it comes off as rude, or that i'm ashamed of something. i could say, "man i've just been living," with a smile. (could ask, what would manny say?) with my little antics and philosophies sometimes i get carried away, end up complicating things worse, end up drawing more attention to myself then i would have if i had simply went along and bragged about all i've seen and done. i handed out apricots last night, i was eve, the queen of fruits. i liked that role. medicine woman. Current Mood: calm (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, July 11th, 2007
8:59 pm	yesterday was fabulous. i'm very grateful to my friends and some beautiful people who live in this city. i am inspired. today i bought a sketchbook and drew sunbathers at the lake. i would like a hooka. i'd like to move out. i'd like to move in and out and in and out. i'd like to have at least one little baby to put on my boobies. i'm curious about the 7 year regeneration cycle. i love my family. my bedroom. and my body. today i slept in until noon! ah dreams and watchlessness. last night i got home at 1am and stood in the kitchen eating homemade goat milk ricotta and raspberries and honey on homade spelt bread munchies. before that i rode my bike home in the starlight and delighted in the darkest parts like i used to in the fall when i wrote that play about bike lessons. before that i walked with gabe cipes from coco kimmits hippie love tent, but we got lost, which is the grandest endeavor in ones own town. and before that i smoked a joint with my old spanish teacher. and before that i was at the fed witnessing the horrendous hate crime of drive by pepper spraying...and before that i had a avacado shaker and my eyes were closed and i was shaking that thing all over the place and thinking about buying a malibu. and before that me and hana wind were walking down the road talking about fashion design. and before that we were eating glorious sushis at naganos with melanie castle. and before that we were swimming high in the lake. and before that we were smoking a fatty on the beach. and before that i was writing in a tree. today i've spoken maybe 100 words and read a tiny tiny bit and wrote a bit, and this. Current Mood: calm (Comment on this)
Monday, July 9th, 2007
2:21 pm	today was the second day of picking cherries, of my 11th season (12 if you count NZ) can you believe it? it is crazy to admit it. that these cherries in fact are a part of my life, my life time, these people are my family. it is day 2 and i'm sitting at home, alone, dazed and confused with what to do (there is plenty to do of course) but summer gives me stage fright, summer renders me blank in action and saturated in chaotic dreams. it is day 2 and i'm scared. scared of falling into the same old patterns when newness is so crucial and possible. scared of going crazy. scared of being lonely. loneliness makes sameness and monotony ache like something rotting. i hate how hot and beautiful and silent lonely july days are. i know i can shuffle it all, i know i have will in me that is panting to be flexed, i know i MUST flex it, if i am to survive, if i am to grow. i'm sacred that even if i flex my will and do all i want to do, i'll still be depressed. i'd like to go visit my stepbrother, knock on his door, coyly ask if he could sell me some magic grass. do you know what my summer to do list is? read, write, draw. sounds like a challenge hey? oh but it is. or i've sickly made it into one, just by the repetition of thou shalt, fuck, i shalt not, even if it is the love of my life, i shalt not. last night i went swimming in the lake. it was pure heaven. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, May 9th, 2007
4:03 pm	oh yeah. i had the most amazing dream last night. new planet. gorgeous geography and strange blueish green vegetation, crystal/salty rivers filled with talking otter type things. met some amazing people who were unlike any other people i'd ever met, on a hilltop, they had glass pipes filled with what looked like chewed up yellowish grass of some sort, that we smoked, and it was incredible. made me want to write a fantasy novel. Current Mood: amused (Comment on this)
2:00 pm	reading jack keroauc. it's about time. the day is beautiful sunny. but i'm inside. got great ideas. wearing a headscarf, lathered my face when i got home this morning with the juice of a pointy arm of an aloe vera plant. it was pure chaos of pain prior. my room is a sty perpetually. i remember getting drunk. it feels like forever ago. i'd like to look more into that. but at the same time not need to. at the same time surely not conform. not hurt my body. but not miss out on anything too key and appropriate for my age. trying to figure out the bike trip. what a trial it is! a beautiful one. studying maps. but if tom doesn't sell that car of his, and i don't get that tax check, we ain't gonna have any money to go on this trip. that's the sad and honest truth of it. but we'll do it anyway and starve and freeze and live. got a book about bike touring out from the library yesterday. collections of different stories... one guy, alastair bland, bike toured through california and "to save money i didn't buy food." ha! he collected grapes from the road side and made "bike booze" wine with a pinch of yeast and a "clean" sock to strain it. see, there's brilliancy. at another point in the book a guy said, you don't need no fancy shit, i saw a man biking from argentina to mexico on an old bicycle with only one gear. i have to keep this in mind. yesterday i didn't sleep very well in the night and at 4:30 tom started laughing his butt off about a dream he was having and then so did i because it was so beautifully random and i was so bored with my sleeplessness so we decided to get up and go for a walk and we discovered a beautiful area of town i'd never been to before that's just a couple blocks away from tom's house. wow! kelowna holds amazing secrets. we came and made some thick gluppy breakfast and i went back to bed. i woke up a couple of hours later and went unicycling. probably a bad idea as i was sooo sore in my thighs and crotch from the previous day. but it's fun. went downtown to the bank to cash a check and bumped into ms.lana mcguire and invited myself along to breakfast with her and megan at the boh. hadn't been there in forevah. it was great. after me and lana walked to the library and sat together and talked about life. inspirational lady. i hung out at the library looking at maps for a long time. then unied back to toms and made myself some salad (he was at work for the day..i'm much too lazy to work.) i was feeling antsy about food. went and sat on his lawn in the wind and wrote really fast and read till he came home exhausted and we heated talks till bedtime. hope, hope, hope. gratitude. carpe diem. love. faith. apparently we're building a meat slaughtering facility at our house. viva small farms! Current Mood: cheerful (Comment on this)
Monday, May 7th, 2007
5:18 pm	me and tom just unicycled from my house to his house. my thighs are chaffed but other than that it feels good. passed by a bike tourer who had just rode to kelowna from vancouver and had biked to mexico last year. made me want to. get better gear. in the fall. and go. go. go. the world. and move to vancouver. that's been tickin in the back of my head lately. i know i know it's cliche for a kelowna kid to want to move to vanoucver. but i have my reasons. last night we showed the movie you never bike alone. kk, richard, anne-marie and jasmine (and dad and ambo) were the only guests. but it was fun anyway. it made me hate myspace and facebook a whole bunch. i'm not cool, and i'm ok with that. that means i have less of a reputation to hold up. less expectations. things have felt flaky and wishy-washy the past little while. but the exictement and determination for the trip, right now anyways, has risen above the doubts. one step at a time. it's a beautiful dream and i'd love to do it justice. had my first condom mishap the other day. had my first (and hopefuly last!) morning after pill. it sucked shit. but i survived. it's been one of those things i've dreaded for a long long time. dreaded just the process of figuring it out, like going to the doctor, and just how i'd say it, but i did it. it sucks that i had to do it, i hate meds under any situation, but i'm proud i did it. i'm proud i was strong enough to. was brave enough to. what, so, no sex till i'm 32 and finally wanna make that baby?!!? aw fuck. couscous is so friken easy to make! yahoo. hopefully thom will sell his car. hopefully my tax check will come in soon. joy oh rapture. Current Mood: accomplished (Comment on this)
Friday, April 27th, 2007
9:25 pm	i used to be scared of smoking to the very tail of a joint, now it's my favorite part. i love the way the heat feels on my fingers. hot and greasy. i love the smoke towards that end better, after the first toke, the readjustment of lung-expectations. i love seeing the ocean in your eyes and the colors of your skin so clearly. coming to terms with who i am just yet. like i am who i am today. that will change. it's just about how much effort i feel like putting into the change. how desperate i am for it. i'm content. i'm excited. that's all one can really ask for. i feel silly regressing back into the labels of adolescent ideals, punks, hippies, stoners, all these characters with their styles and habits and lifestyles, even down to their jewelery and ethics... and i was never any of them. and i was all of them. and i am all of them. and i will be all of them. so much fabric! it haunts me like a delicious daydream. we play atom and eve in the garden of eden. but there are no birth control security gaurds, just god, the baker. we watch the postman. and i dream of being a postman. remember that postlady in vancouver i talked to on the street, she complimented my shoes as a walked by making maps of the commercial drive area, i enquired about what one needs to do to become a courior. i think of jenn jefferies and her bicycle. i think of all my pairs of ripped jeans. i think of my rippling biceps in the sun of an orchard. i don't need cigerettes, just fill my palms with the good green lord. i wear my red velvet shorts. i think of garter belts. would that really be sexy? i remember simon saying bike cleats were sexy... i think of tattoos. then i think, naw, never! we play scrabble and listen to fleetwood mac and dad's doing the laundry asks us going back to my childhood? but you can't own childhood. it is freedom. freedom to listen to the records on the shelf that will never be thrown away but that will never be listened to because they are a thing of the past and childhood is a thing of the past and we're not allowed to be nostalgic about a past we never got to live. but a present that we can live if we choose not to fear judgement. i will be braver, one day. i go to visit my neighbors, a lovely iranian woman with her daughter. there are all kinds of different floral patterns, from the plastic tablecloth to the curtins. she has a string of little plastic pearls connecting the arms of her glasses. she wears beiges, knitted acryilic sweater and a corduroy coat. there is a skin rash around her ear. she says i remind her of my mom. i look through their house unashamed. there are losts of exotic scripts around, prayer calenders, tons of books, half a watermelon carved on the kitchn table (later on she offers me some scrapings of it in a white porcelin bowl), all kinds of vegetables on their table, a photograph of the daughter, when she was one years old hangs on the wall. she is now a grown woman with her own office in the house to do her school work and help her mother with the tax return business. i see a to-do list tacked onto the fridge. to-do lists being our truest selves, our most ideal, if we could just manage to get the stuff on the to-do list done, then we'll be one step closer to success, or at least our true selves. she reads deligently and the stack of books on her tables and chairs are enormous, reads while the computer screen is loading. the mothers office is in the room most people would use for shoes and coats. the wall is green. you sleep on the futon. yesterday we biked to vernon and back. today we sleep in, eat like kings and pigs all day, lounge, smoke, romp, etc. etc. your breath is soft in the big blue and white sweater. i love seeing you in clothes i haven't seen you in before... you are an organic organim. all parts moving as a result of the heart, all parts slightly delayed with the gradual flow of breath inhalation/exhalation and blood, all heaving, all connected, all strong. you make me want to write vivaciously. thank you. you were a shaman this afternoon. you healed my face for a moment. you melted it into oblivion. i love melting. but when i do it i become dead weight. i do not want to be dead weight. i want to be free weight. and i want to participate. i loved singing to you. it feels like it was the first time i've ever sang to you. i feel there are so many places and so many people that i would like to hang out with in this life. i feel there are so many characters that i myself want to encompass, to dress the part, to speak the part, to play the role, to roll, to shuffle, to try new tricks, to forget old habits, to keeping going and learning and growing and to be inspired by the past but not confined to it. at 10 pm all i can think about is tomorrow's art, tomorrow's art, tomorrow's art. but the morning is a time of forgetfullness. i dreamed of my dad wearing white stilletos, casually, like it was no big deal. i see the neccesity of moving out. moving out of this house. moving out of kelowna. anything is possible....and maybe that's what's so hard about getting anything done. Current Mood: content (Comment on this)
10:42 am	yesterday me and tom biked to vernon and back. 110 kms in one day. that's the most i've ever ridden. that's the farthest i've ever been. looking forward to portland and beyond! the road beckons.... Current Mood: excited (Comment on this)
Sunday, April 22nd, 2007
8:43 pm	“Thank you Burrows, for that descriptive insight into the nuclear arms race.” “Thank you Burrows, for that descriptive insight into the nuclear arms race.” There is Herman now, he’s got a witches hat for a mouth of disgust and a ghostly Eiffel tower for a tie. The way his cloud-shaped glasses tilt you would think he was truly angry at Burrows, but the rest of his body language suggests indifference. He is disheveled with his own nuclear arms race, the rat race of Principality. Hands are kept faithfully in the pockets of his grey linen slacks. His hair is a lone black silhouette of a spooky tree branch overhanging to provide the sleepy traveler with smidgen of shade. He’s hiding dead bodies in that hunchback. Burrows is petite like an underdeveloped child, except for his nose which is hippo-proportioned. He has blue bunny tails on his shirt that attempt, futilely, to imitate the clouds of Herman’s glasses. A gondola of a cheek connects his hair-shrouded ear to his temple-roof chin. He holds onto the seahorse hammer with intense fingers more thick with strength than his biceps. He has more hair than Herman, but it is thinner and sparse because it must cover a much greater surface area. Burrows’ lips are contorted into an uneven mountain chain smirk and his eyes are so beady you cannot even see them. The torn globe grimaces with her new mouth-shaped wounds. Current Mood: high (Comment on this)
Saturday, April 21st, 2007
10:11 pm	3 new songs 1. my ability to bleed a red city into your bones makes me feel so pretty. 2. my legs turn my wheels churn the air into joy and i spread it like butter all over the sky. 3. take back the shake that was given to us when fat was given to us. (Comment on this)
9:02 am	it's been a whirlwindy past couple of days. experimentations. rolling crude pinners with my own flare, headin to the back 36 to commune with my concoction and nature's. writing. biking. pictionary in the park. sunglasses at the wardrobe. insufficent funds. $5.41 in bank. well i guess i'm broke now... getting spoon struck and seeing my big bro as a big bro in that other city eatery. esmee and a quick glance at beads. dishana at the atm. rutabaga records. what the fuck? graceful antelope experiments. 420. going to vernon for the afternoon to smoke a joint in a park with cops all around. freestylers, people with free style, crazy old poet man (i'll be a crazy old poet man too one day) dyke boy, mystical braid hair lady, bareboys in kalamalka. cara's b-day bash last night. i went up for a little while before the crowds truly showed, had a talk with a guy named dan who i think i might have known long-ago. gave myself a haircut, hung out in my room a bit, sorting through a sky-high pile of fabrics, writing and deciding that in my exhaustion sleep would be fantastic. so that is what i did. i feel like i've learned alot in the past few days. i'm starting to recognize the fact that i am gloriously free and nothing short of infinity is available to me. there is just so much beauty in this world to be seen and no excuse not to see it! i have an english examination this afternoon, pretty sure i know some english so i think it'll go well. fine arts opening thing tonight. an exam on monday. poetry reading on tuesday. maybe i'll head to cali on wednesday. who knows. if anybody knows how to knit or has extra needles and yarns they're not using, speak up. (Comment on this)
Saturday, April 14th, 2007
12:28 pm	you look like a lovely little irish boy in my green sweater with your red hair. i wrote shitloads yesterday and the day before and the day before. got it all done but for three journal entries...(the 14 other ones totaled 5600 words) there was a possility of going to california on the 25th with two guys named wes and jake. i'vee gotten high in the presence of wes twice, but other then that we haven't really talked and i've never met jake. tom was invited to. i think we are both having second thoughts. school is done. i have a couple of exams on the 21 and 23, but i don't plan on studying all that hard for them. i mostly feel like it's all done. over with. it felt good to get my creative writing stuff in. it felt good to write. i'm proud of my stories and poems. i hope i have the disipline to keep writing consistently without the ridgidity of a univesity style learning environment with due dates and other fear tactics. i feel utterly free. it feels good to know that i am. that i was free before. that i'll always be free. that's why i want to take a look at this trip to california and figure out if its truly what i want. because i can truly do anything i want. i would like to go to california. or oregon. or washington. or anywhere in canada or anywhere in the states. hitchhikin, bikin, wwoofin, couchsurfing, walkin, busin', workin', writin. i bought cheese yesterday. thats all i've bought since i decided not to buy anything anymore. i'm doing okay. i am not opposed to working. i am not opposed to saving. i am thinking europe and aisa in the fall. for a long long time. it's now april. april may june july august. work and go. work and go. and of tom? he's more then welcome to join me. i want him to. i do not want to leave him like david left me. i do not want to leave him like i left bryan. i want to show him the world. i want him to show me the world. i want to show each other the world. but i do also want to be alone. i do also want to be independent and strong. (on the 17th i'll have had consecutive boyfriends for four years) i do not want to be stubborn. i do not want to be selfish. i do not want to be close minded. i do not want tom to live with the fear of losing me. that is the same fear i had the whole time i was with david. perpetual fear that he would leave me. and he did. he needed to. and i think i needed him to as well. i needed to see that it could be done, that we both would survive and be ok. relationships are hard! the hardest thing indeed. i watch you sitting out side on your moms new blue compost container. i watch you from inside your room. you write painstakingly slow and carefully. you write like i talk and i write like you talk. i want to tell you everything. i want to show you everything i've ever written. i want to tell you how much my zits fucking kill me. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, April 1st, 2007
4:39 pm	writing a bike shaped story. listening to sonic youth. wearing a mesh back, sporting my mullet. (yes, i have a mullet now, somehow, the universe has conspired to result in this as my hair fate. coming to terms with the truth of it.) reading. cohen, wolfe, lawrence, miller. thinking of sewing. always thinking of sewing. yellow silk on blue linen. burlap tanks lined with satin. coming to terms with my musical failure. and not giving up. experiementing with pitch. yesterday we went to the park, strathcona. swung on the swings. played with our shadows. sat on the sand in the wind and looked at the blue sky and the beauty of the mountains. decided to go down the curvy slide upsidedown and backwards and just about snapped my neck off. rented la vallée (obscured by clouds). fit with what esmée was talking about at the bean earlier. her in her purple cable knit and silk scarves, short dyed hair and stick on face jewels. she was happy to see me and tom together. i was happy to see her. meet her. mill creek park off bowes st. with beautiful ducks. we lie on the grass and you play the uke and we sing songs all afternoon and roll cigerettes and give them to the down and outs. 5:45 am friday i bike downtown. we catch a bus up to rutland with our bikes. mount hartman. tour my old digs. see the dig ups occuring. went to europe in kelownas boonies. places in your dreams. they exist! they await! just around the bend. we eat at a rutland diner. pass phil, painting a facade on a storefront on bernard. test the tepid waters of discouragement at the mad mango. all days blur into one big day. more benches. more ukelele. more parks. more grass. not enough grass. want to be a writer like i've never wanted to be a writer before. any ambition feels frightful. a set up for disaster. but that is life. failure is life. and it's funny. coming to the realization that this very valley we call home is paradise, a paradise for an infinitude of poems and novelas and memoirs. (Comment on this)