I can’t believe I, of all people, am writing this. I have only ever had a couple of serious relationships in my life, the last ending brutally years ago. But two of my best friends are deeply in love and this came up in a conversation a couple nights ago. Why do some people insist on calling it ‘lesbian love’? It is love between two people no different than any other. It just happens to be two women that are in love. Of course I had to ponder this as I sit in the window, it’s what I do.
It being two women it does get a bit tricky I guess. People might assume because it is two women love is so much easier. They might assume two women would have similar likes and dislikes whether socially, intellectually, emotionally, or for that matter sexually. If you are one who thinks this is true let me say this, you totally have no idea how wrong you are. Just dealing with this assumption is enough to push a girl's sanity to the brink.
All you know is that they are two women in love. After that all bets are off.
Some women are more emotional than others and some are emotional but just hide it. But not all women are as understanding, motherly, or caring as others. Some women thrive being the center of attention and some are just born antisocial. Some just like to sit in a bar and watch sports, I might know her.
And the funniest thing of all is the theory that because both women get PMS and the hormonal craziness they are going to handle it better. Oh My God! Just because both get these things, even know when it is going to happen, doesn’t mean they will cope with it any better. Imagine two of us having it at the same time. There isn’t better proof that a women doesn’t choose to be gay.
And what about sex? Sorry I’m so not even touching that. Say the words ‘lesbian love’ and where will a guys mind turn? Exactly.
So ‘lesbian love’, is it better because it’s two women? Is it really such a different thing? Two women’s hearts, minds, and very souls decide they need to be together. But that is love, period. Not just love between women.
It’s a constant work in progress just like life itself.
tuneage, Train - Soul Sister
Friday, May 14, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Observations on Art 5.13
Two recent articles from the ‘Times’ have me thinking yet again. Both, at least in my mind, ask a question. Neither of which I have an answer for and, quite honestly, I don’t know if there is an answer for either. I just though I would throw the links out there and make you think about it so I can stop. I have other things to do!
The first was about a work by the artist Caleb Larsen titled 'A Tool to Deceive and Slaughter'. It contains a program that will relist it on ebay every week in perpetuity. You could own it for a week, a month, or forever. But is it art if it can ‘think’? Maybe not think in a literal sense but think just the same. Can anything be called ‘art’ just because the person making it is artist and has a degree that says so?
The other was an article, more an essay, on anonymous bidding on art auctions. An anonymous telephone bidder recently paid 106.5 million dollars for Picasso’s 'Nude, Green Leaves and Bust,' a painting he did in just one day in 1964. This is now the most ever paid for a painting. Anonymous bidding was a pet peeve of an ethics professor I once had. He tried to make us think about the morality of it. His though being that it is a crime against ‘art’ to pay tens of millions, and now a hundred million, on a painting to hang on your wall, maybe never to be seen in public again. "At least tell us your name" he would say. As the article itself says “I wished someone like that would give $100 million to the New York Public Library and just let it go at that.”
Links:
Art That Sells Itself
The Coy Art of the Mystery Bidder
ebay, 'A Tool to Deceive and Slaughter'
(The ebay link is just search for the work because, as i write this, there are only three hours left on the current auction. There is one bid for $6858. *shrugs.)
tuneage, The Kills - Black Balloon
The first was about a work by the artist Caleb Larsen titled 'A Tool to Deceive and Slaughter'. It contains a program that will relist it on ebay every week in perpetuity. You could own it for a week, a month, or forever. But is it art if it can ‘think’? Maybe not think in a literal sense but think just the same. Can anything be called ‘art’ just because the person making it is artist and has a degree that says so?
The other was an article, more an essay, on anonymous bidding on art auctions. An anonymous telephone bidder recently paid 106.5 million dollars for Picasso’s 'Nude, Green Leaves and Bust,' a painting he did in just one day in 1964. This is now the most ever paid for a painting. Anonymous bidding was a pet peeve of an ethics professor I once had. He tried to make us think about the morality of it. His though being that it is a crime against ‘art’ to pay tens of millions, and now a hundred million, on a painting to hang on your wall, maybe never to be seen in public again. "At least tell us your name" he would say. As the article itself says “I wished someone like that would give $100 million to the New York Public Library and just let it go at that.”
Links:
Art That Sells Itself
The Coy Art of the Mystery Bidder
ebay, 'A Tool to Deceive and Slaughter'
(The ebay link is just search for the work because, as i write this, there are only three hours left on the current auction. There is one bid for $6858. *shrugs.)
tuneage, The Kills - Black Balloon
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Observations from the Window 5.12
Twenty plus years of what some would call bad habits. The loner, the dark girl in the corner of the room at the party, the girl in the booth alone in the back of the bar, the anti-social one taking it all in. But I never felt like an outcast, not until now. And why you ask? Simple because I spread hummus on my bagel in the morning as I did not know there was a ‘bagel bible’ and now I feel shame. But that goes a long way in explaining why there are twenty flavors of crème cheese at the bagelry and not one of hummus. I'll try to be better.
I started running again a couple days ago. I had no idea where to run because I just like to run out the door and be off. I don’t want to have to take a bus or subway up to the park and than run. So I ran up around NYU which wasn’t a bad idea at all as you have to love the scenery up there. But I found out yesterday morning that if you are going to run around NYU don’t wear PSU field hockey sweats. It seems to be frowned upon. Than again I could always replace the number on my chest with a gesture of some kind. Something that anybody would understand.
And you have to love people in this city. Where else can you overhear some conversations? Like the twenty something goth girl talking to the forty something lawyer type, both drunk, discussing the best place to get a cab home at 6 in the evening. I should have listened closer to that one. Or the tourists asking where they can get their fake Chanel or Dior handbags. You know, the ones with the tags that say Channel and fall off ten minutes after you get home. Hey just buy them online like everybody else does now.
And finally, how did people live before the cell phone? How did I live before my Droid? It seems I’m constantly talking and texting now, staying connected to Court, my sister, and friends. I’ll be sitting watching the Flyer’s game tonight enjoying my brother’s one word commentaries as much as the game. You haven’t lived until you get ‘what the fuck was that’ on your phone. But sorry Ash, I refuse to go bluetooth like you. I may be a pseudo geek but this half of the tall dark team refuses to look the part.
Sadly it had to happen sooner or later ….
tuneage, Lady Gaga - Bad Romance
I started running again a couple days ago. I had no idea where to run because I just like to run out the door and be off. I don’t want to have to take a bus or subway up to the park and than run. So I ran up around NYU which wasn’t a bad idea at all as you have to love the scenery up there. But I found out yesterday morning that if you are going to run around NYU don’t wear PSU field hockey sweats. It seems to be frowned upon. Than again I could always replace the number on my chest with a gesture of some kind. Something that anybody would understand.
And you have to love people in this city. Where else can you overhear some conversations? Like the twenty something goth girl talking to the forty something lawyer type, both drunk, discussing the best place to get a cab home at 6 in the evening. I should have listened closer to that one. Or the tourists asking where they can get their fake Chanel or Dior handbags. You know, the ones with the tags that say Channel and fall off ten minutes after you get home. Hey just buy them online like everybody else does now.
And finally, how did people live before the cell phone? How did I live before my Droid? It seems I’m constantly talking and texting now, staying connected to Court, my sister, and friends. I’ll be sitting watching the Flyer’s game tonight enjoying my brother’s one word commentaries as much as the game. You haven’t lived until you get ‘what the fuck was that’ on your phone. But sorry Ash, I refuse to go bluetooth like you. I may be a pseudo geek but this half of the tall dark team refuses to look the part.
Sadly it had to happen sooner or later ….
tuneage, Lady Gaga - Bad Romance
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Mom
I was reading a Mothers Day blog post today that had me thinking. As you all know by now thinking is not always a good thing for me to be doing. But I could so relate to this girl because her mom had died of cancer at a young age.
I owe my mom so much. She was the first one to see something special behind my dark eyes. She would drag me around Philadelphia museums when I was barely old enough to walk. She was the first one to stick my fingers in paint, which was something that ended in quite a mess if I remember it correctly. And the first one to take me to wander the streets of New York and to visit MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) which was one of her favorite places in the world. She always praised my art but was also never afraid to criticize it.
When, as a teenager, I suddenly informed my parents I was gay she just hugged me and went about her business like I hadn’t just changed her life forever. From than on I knew I would be fine. She was the one who, in my rebellious high school years, kept me grounded when things could have gone so wrong.
She was always there for me until one day she wasn’t.
Everything I’ll ever be as an artist I owe to my mom and every time I look at a painting I wonder what she would have thought of it. Every day I wish I could thank her somehow.
I’ll leave you with a very fitting quote from the blog I read.
“This mother’s day be sure to tell them how much you care for all they have done for you, for you may never get another chance. Learn about their lives and you may learn something about yourself.” Miss Destructo
tuneage, one of mom's favs
I owe my mom so much. She was the first one to see something special behind my dark eyes. She would drag me around Philadelphia museums when I was barely old enough to walk. She was the first one to stick my fingers in paint, which was something that ended in quite a mess if I remember it correctly. And the first one to take me to wander the streets of New York and to visit MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) which was one of her favorite places in the world. She always praised my art but was also never afraid to criticize it.
When, as a teenager, I suddenly informed my parents I was gay she just hugged me and went about her business like I hadn’t just changed her life forever. From than on I knew I would be fine. She was the one who, in my rebellious high school years, kept me grounded when things could have gone so wrong.
She was always there for me until one day she wasn’t.
Everything I’ll ever be as an artist I owe to my mom and every time I look at a painting I wonder what she would have thought of it. Every day I wish I could thank her somehow.
I’ll leave you with a very fitting quote from the blog I read.
“This mother’s day be sure to tell them how much you care for all they have done for you, for you may never get another chance. Learn about their lives and you may learn something about yourself.” Miss Destructo
tuneage, one of mom's favs
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Observations from the Gallery 5.8
Yesterday Chloe and I had a chance to attend a show at the Gagosian Gallery in Chelsea. The show, ‘Claude Monet: Late Work’, is a stunning display of 27 Monets dating from 1904 till 1922. A few I had seen before but most I had not including several of his ‘Water Lilly’ paintings that I had never seen and instantly fell in love with. Monet painted over 200 of his 'Nympheas' in the later years of his life. Ill be lucky if i paint 200 of anything in my whole life! So if anybody happens to be in the area it’s worth a look. Maybe while you are there you could order me a copy of the show book, please? Save it for my birthday if you must.
"The instantaneity of Monet, far from being passive, requires an unusual power of generalization, of abstraction… Monet declares: here is nature, not as you or I habitually see it, but as you are able to see it, not in this or that particular effect but in others like it. The vision I propose to you is superior; my painting will change your reality." Michel Butor, 1962, from the show press release.
Last night also marked the opening of the new Richard Galpin installation, ‘Viewing Station’, at High Line Park. So i guess I am going to have to get up the High Line sometime too. This would be an awesome time of year to take some pics there.
'A new interactive public art exhibit that offers abstracted views of buildings and streetscapes adjacent to the High Line. Viewing Station invites park visitors to peek into a view finder that aligns with a screen cut with geometric shapes. The resulting view emphasizes neighboring buildings' texture and color.’ from the High Line blog.
And finally, just hours after the Times Square bomb scare, firefighters and the NYPD bomb squad rushed to a storefront on Broadway after getting calls from people who thought they saw a bomb inside the window. What they found was an art display that included a fog machine, a fake time bomb and vials of liquid, turned out to be perfume, that looked like pipe bombs. The piece was created by artist Lisa Kirk, and the perfume is called 'Revolution,' which is meant to smell like smoke, gasoline, tear gas, and burnt rubber. Yummy, I can't wait to get some of that and go out dancing.
Think people, Think!
tuneage, Green Day - Last Of The American Girls
"The instantaneity of Monet, far from being passive, requires an unusual power of generalization, of abstraction… Monet declares: here is nature, not as you or I habitually see it, but as you are able to see it, not in this or that particular effect but in others like it. The vision I propose to you is superior; my painting will change your reality." Michel Butor, 1962, from the show press release.
Last night also marked the opening of the new Richard Galpin installation, ‘Viewing Station’, at High Line Park. So i guess I am going to have to get up the High Line sometime too. This would be an awesome time of year to take some pics there.
'A new interactive public art exhibit that offers abstracted views of buildings and streetscapes adjacent to the High Line. Viewing Station invites park visitors to peek into a view finder that aligns with a screen cut with geometric shapes. The resulting view emphasizes neighboring buildings' texture and color.’ from the High Line blog.
And finally, just hours after the Times Square bomb scare, firefighters and the NYPD bomb squad rushed to a storefront on Broadway after getting calls from people who thought they saw a bomb inside the window. What they found was an art display that included a fog machine, a fake time bomb and vials of liquid, turned out to be perfume, that looked like pipe bombs. The piece was created by artist Lisa Kirk, and the perfume is called 'Revolution,' which is meant to smell like smoke, gasoline, tear gas, and burnt rubber. Yummy, I can't wait to get some of that and go out dancing.
Think people, Think!
tuneage, Green Day - Last Of The American Girls
Friday, May 7, 2010
Cocaine
It’s a totally awesome Clapton tune, it’s a drug, and it’s my worst fucking nightmare.
Unless you have been there you can’t understand how it can take over your brain. You want it, need it, you think you are going to die if you don’t have it. Once it has its claws in you there isn’t anything, anything, you won’t do to get more.
I know because there was a time in my life that it owned me. I know the feeling, the desire. I know what it feels like to wake up in the morning and have a snort before you even get out of bed. I know what it feels like to walk into a dark alley with my hands full of bills, not caring if I walk out, just wanting what is in there. Needing what is in there.
There was a time I looked in the mirror and hated what I saw. To be honest there was a time I looked in the mirror and wished I was dead. But that was so long ago.
When I moved to NY one of my worst fears, one of everybody’s fears, was that I wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation. That I would think I would be able to handle it, just once, just to feel that buzz again, the euphoria. Just once can’t hurt. I can handle that. But I know I can’t. Once you have been to hell you really can’t go back for a visit. If you go back it’s for good.
So everyday I struggle with it. What once I paid thousands for I could now easily get for free. But I know I’m better than that now. I know I would disappoint so many people if I went back. Family and friends that stood by me and helped me survive the last time. And new friends who, rightly or wrongly, have faith in me now.
And most of all I know my mom is looking down from somewhere and I really don’t want to disappoint her. I owe her so much.
So it’s almost mother’s day mom, I’m doing my best.
But it’s so fucking hard.
tuneage, Apocalyptica & Cristina Scabbia - S.O.S.
(postscript - So after some sleep I best add a little explanation. In my world i can't help seeing drugs, i can't run and hide in the mountains anymore. Not that I am tempted in any way but I don't have the clear negative reaction that i have had for years. Maybe that's a good thing but I'm not sure. So I just thought I needed to slap myself a little and this was it. Not that I need anybody else doing it so don't form a line !! kt.)
Unless you have been there you can’t understand how it can take over your brain. You want it, need it, you think you are going to die if you don’t have it. Once it has its claws in you there isn’t anything, anything, you won’t do to get more.
I know because there was a time in my life that it owned me. I know the feeling, the desire. I know what it feels like to wake up in the morning and have a snort before you even get out of bed. I know what it feels like to walk into a dark alley with my hands full of bills, not caring if I walk out, just wanting what is in there. Needing what is in there.
There was a time I looked in the mirror and hated what I saw. To be honest there was a time I looked in the mirror and wished I was dead. But that was so long ago.
When I moved to NY one of my worst fears, one of everybody’s fears, was that I wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation. That I would think I would be able to handle it, just once, just to feel that buzz again, the euphoria. Just once can’t hurt. I can handle that. But I know I can’t. Once you have been to hell you really can’t go back for a visit. If you go back it’s for good.
So everyday I struggle with it. What once I paid thousands for I could now easily get for free. But I know I’m better than that now. I know I would disappoint so many people if I went back. Family and friends that stood by me and helped me survive the last time. And new friends who, rightly or wrongly, have faith in me now.
And most of all I know my mom is looking down from somewhere and I really don’t want to disappoint her. I owe her so much.
So it’s almost mother’s day mom, I’m doing my best.
But it’s so fucking hard.
tuneage, Apocalyptica & Cristina Scabbia - S.O.S.
(postscript - So after some sleep I best add a little explanation. In my world i can't help seeing drugs, i can't run and hide in the mountains anymore. Not that I am tempted in any way but I don't have the clear negative reaction that i have had for years. Maybe that's a good thing but I'm not sure. So I just thought I needed to slap myself a little and this was it. Not that I need anybody else doing it so don't form a line !! kt.)
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Observations from the Window 5.4.1
Just a few updates of today's earlier post.
In an addition to the tard quote of the day competition I give you Italian Bishop Francesco Nole who said in an interview “Nothing surprises me anymore. Homosexuality, which is a disease, has become something normal. They sprout like poisonous mushrooms, and instead of feeling shame they celebrate this plague and the church itself minimalises these sins.” He went on to add that ‘irregulars’ shouldn’t be given funerals or communion either. Now I'm not the least bit religious but this pretty much disgusts me so I declare him the winner by fiat.
A day after being arrested as he sat on a Dubai bound jet at JFK, Faisal Shahzad was charged with terrorism and attempting to use a weapon of mass destruction in the attempted Times Square bombing. Hopefully they didn’t use the word terror in the indictment.
In a related matter, as I stood outside the gallery today I was passed by machine-gun toting NYC police officers. By email a good friend confirmed my worst fears. The roundup of all those knee jerk liberal homosexual artist types had begun. As i write this we are hiding out in one of our local coffee shops disguised as wingnuts.
Ok now about my nameless friend, you can find her everywhere in this blog known only as my friend. My good friend Val has remained nameless because she doesn’t stand behind me yelling ‘hey I have a name!’ like Ash did. But from this point on my friend will be known by here name, which I think I mentioned is Val. So take a bow .... I can't finish this line.
“Insanity - a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world.”
R. D. Laing
I'm so there ....
bonus tuneage, The Dandy Warhols - Bohemian Like You
In an addition to the tard quote of the day competition I give you Italian Bishop Francesco Nole who said in an interview “Nothing surprises me anymore. Homosexuality, which is a disease, has become something normal. They sprout like poisonous mushrooms, and instead of feeling shame they celebrate this plague and the church itself minimalises these sins.” He went on to add that ‘irregulars’ shouldn’t be given funerals or communion either. Now I'm not the least bit religious but this pretty much disgusts me so I declare him the winner by fiat.
A day after being arrested as he sat on a Dubai bound jet at JFK, Faisal Shahzad was charged with terrorism and attempting to use a weapon of mass destruction in the attempted Times Square bombing. Hopefully they didn’t use the word terror in the indictment.
In a related matter, as I stood outside the gallery today I was passed by machine-gun toting NYC police officers. By email a good friend confirmed my worst fears. The roundup of all those knee jerk liberal homosexual artist types had begun. As i write this we are hiding out in one of our local coffee shops disguised as wingnuts.
Ok now about my nameless friend, you can find her everywhere in this blog known only as my friend. My good friend Val has remained nameless because she doesn’t stand behind me yelling ‘hey I have a name!’ like Ash did. But from this point on my friend will be known by here name, which I think I mentioned is Val. So take a bow .... I can't finish this line.
“Insanity - a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world.”
R. D. Laing
I'm so there ....
bonus tuneage, The Dandy Warhols - Bohemian Like You
Observations from the Window 5.4
Isn't it rather fitting that a vendor was the one who spotted the smoking SUV in Time Square? We should get rid of more of them.
What is homofascism? Have I missed something here? I must turn to my expert on all things defined, the Urban Dictionary. It defines homofacism as 'hysterical term used to describe any attempt made by gays and lesbians to protect their dignity and freedom.' Oh! Well than sign me up for that. I hope I get a tshirt that has lesbofascist printed on it, but it better not be pink.
Soon to be out country music singer Chely Wright is accused of being a faux lesbian to promote her first new album in five years. If one has to now pretend to be gay to sell country music the world truly is turned upside down.
For an absolute tard quote of the day I give you Rush Limbaugh, the TIC, or Tard in Chief. Talking about the oil spill in the gulf he came up with this gem. "The ocean will take care of this on its own if it was left alone and left out there. It's natural. It's as natural as the ocean water is." On top of that he calls the spill ‘Obama’s Katrina’ and came up with theory that it was eco-terrorism to stop President Obama’s off shore oil drilling plan. So now it seems we have treehuggers five thousand feet below the surface. Hugging what?
Not to be outdone Fox & Friends asks if there is a rule within the Obama administration that saying the word terror shouldn't be used in connection with the Time Square bombing attempt. “We just interviewed though, the Secretary of Homeland Security, Janet Napolitano, who refuses to say the word terror. Is this a mandate within the Obama administration, not saying the word terror?" While not specifically saying the word terror, when asked Napolitano said she would not rule it out. If I'm not mistaken they also said President Obama regularly disses your mom.
And finally conservative mag Newsmax has discovered the greatest technological device ever conceived and would like to give it to you for free, because the terrorists are coming, the government wants you to have one, and how else are you going to listen to the TIC for crucial updates from your hole in the backyard? Just crank this baby a few times, even a tard can do it, just like that. But don't forget to cancel your 'free' subscription in four months or pay $40 for the year. So here you have Newsmax using governmental advice to sell Chinese stuff to self-proclaimed real Americans who are against government.
Seriously, you just can't make this shit up.
I look out the window and smile ....
tuneage, Eve's Plum - Die Like Someone
What is homofascism? Have I missed something here? I must turn to my expert on all things defined, the Urban Dictionary. It defines homofacism as 'hysterical term used to describe any attempt made by gays and lesbians to protect their dignity and freedom.' Oh! Well than sign me up for that. I hope I get a tshirt that has lesbofascist printed on it, but it better not be pink.
Soon to be out country music singer Chely Wright is accused of being a faux lesbian to promote her first new album in five years. If one has to now pretend to be gay to sell country music the world truly is turned upside down.
For an absolute tard quote of the day I give you Rush Limbaugh, the TIC, or Tard in Chief. Talking about the oil spill in the gulf he came up with this gem. "The ocean will take care of this on its own if it was left alone and left out there. It's natural. It's as natural as the ocean water is." On top of that he calls the spill ‘Obama’s Katrina’ and came up with theory that it was eco-terrorism to stop President Obama’s off shore oil drilling plan. So now it seems we have treehuggers five thousand feet below the surface. Hugging what?
Not to be outdone Fox & Friends asks if there is a rule within the Obama administration that saying the word terror shouldn't be used in connection with the Time Square bombing attempt. “We just interviewed though, the Secretary of Homeland Security, Janet Napolitano, who refuses to say the word terror. Is this a mandate within the Obama administration, not saying the word terror?" While not specifically saying the word terror, when asked Napolitano said she would not rule it out. If I'm not mistaken they also said President Obama regularly disses your mom.
And finally conservative mag Newsmax has discovered the greatest technological device ever conceived and would like to give it to you for free, because the terrorists are coming, the government wants you to have one, and how else are you going to listen to the TIC for crucial updates from your hole in the backyard? Just crank this baby a few times, even a tard can do it, just like that. But don't forget to cancel your 'free' subscription in four months or pay $40 for the year. So here you have Newsmax using governmental advice to sell Chinese stuff to self-proclaimed real Americans who are against government.
Seriously, you just can't make this shit up.
I look out the window and smile ....
tuneage, Eve's Plum - Die Like Someone
Monday, May 3, 2010
Observations from my Bed 5.3
After a hectic weekend, really a hectic week, I’m taking a day off to veg and blog from a new locale. Sitting cross-legged in my big comfy bed, a bed that is way too big for the room it is in. I have thought of getting a new one but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I glance through the open door and see my window seat not too far away and glancing through that my mind returns to the mountains and I smile as I think how magic that place still is for me.
A short drive out from State College followed by a hike into the woods to *my* place, a spot all my own in the mountains. A secret spot I have never shown anybody. One time Sean tried to follow me by GPS, convinced I was doing like Cheech and Chong and growing weed in the woods. Poor child doesn’t realize you can turn GPS off. I worry that one day he will graduate, be working outside, and wonder off into his own woods, lost forever.
I can sit there on the ledge, looking into the valley below, and everything in my mind seems to melt away. All the problems, stresses, and worries of my life gone for as long as I want them too be. Just me alone with a clean slate and the trees, the birds, the foraging deer, and an occasional wondering bear. And, if I’m being truthful here, maybe now and than a beer too. But that’s for another time.
So here I am camped out in bed for the day. Doing a little of this and a little of that. Stocked with coffee, a jumbo box of Cheezits, and my cell phone turned off, I'm ready to do pretty much nothing at all until somebody makes me. Sometimes life is best when you just don’t participate. Now I have a little of this to do.
Than I sigh, damnit, I need a smoke. Guess I’ll be writing from the roof next ….
tuneage, Christina Aguilera - Not Myself Tonight
(i don't usually review my vids but, OMFG !!)
A short drive out from State College followed by a hike into the woods to *my* place, a spot all my own in the mountains. A secret spot I have never shown anybody. One time Sean tried to follow me by GPS, convinced I was doing like Cheech and Chong and growing weed in the woods. Poor child doesn’t realize you can turn GPS off. I worry that one day he will graduate, be working outside, and wonder off into his own woods, lost forever.
I can sit there on the ledge, looking into the valley below, and everything in my mind seems to melt away. All the problems, stresses, and worries of my life gone for as long as I want them too be. Just me alone with a clean slate and the trees, the birds, the foraging deer, and an occasional wondering bear. And, if I’m being truthful here, maybe now and than a beer too. But that’s for another time.
So here I am camped out in bed for the day. Doing a little of this and a little of that. Stocked with coffee, a jumbo box of Cheezits, and my cell phone turned off, I'm ready to do pretty much nothing at all until somebody makes me. Sometimes life is best when you just don’t participate. Now I have a little of this to do.
Than I sigh, damnit, I need a smoke. Guess I’ll be writing from the roof next ….
tuneage, Christina Aguilera - Not Myself Tonight
(i don't usually review my vids but, OMFG !!)
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Observations from the Mountains 5.1
Cruising down I80 on a warm Pennsylvania morning, top down, heavy metal crap blaring from the speakers, I watch for each sign as State College draws nearer and nearer. I speed up as I quickly cruise down I99, knowing it isn’t far now. Finally onto 322 and there in the distance, rising out of the morning fog, is Beaver Stadium. I have to smile to myself because it’s been awhile. Four months but it seems like so much longer.
I cruise slowly through the Penn State campus and head to my brothers apartment where I find him with a keg on the deck. Some things just never change. We sit on the deck drinking away the afternoon with his friends and I start to feel like the ‘den mother’ all over again.
Later I head over to Court’s house, before I moved to the Village my home for over a year. I pull Foxy into the familiar driveway and just sit and look for a few minutes. Than, as I get out of the car, out comes Court with a cold Corona in her hand. ‘Welcome home’ she says as drain half the bottle. Normally I try not to get to emotional (shutit!) but I really could have cried at this point.
Maybe it’s a sort of comfort zone in my life. A zone between my life in the Village and my dad’s, where I cant help but be reminded of my mom and the turmoil of my earlier life. Sometimes this feels more like home than anyplace I have ever known. And, if I’m honest with myself, it has for years.
There is a line in Last Tango in Paris. I don’t remember the line from the movie but I just saw it some magazine article and its rather fitting.
‘It’s over, and then it begins again.’
tuneage, Three Days Grace - The Good Life
I cruise slowly through the Penn State campus and head to my brothers apartment where I find him with a keg on the deck. Some things just never change. We sit on the deck drinking away the afternoon with his friends and I start to feel like the ‘den mother’ all over again.
Later I head over to Court’s house, before I moved to the Village my home for over a year. I pull Foxy into the familiar driveway and just sit and look for a few minutes. Than, as I get out of the car, out comes Court with a cold Corona in her hand. ‘Welcome home’ she says as drain half the bottle. Normally I try not to get to emotional (shutit!) but I really could have cried at this point.
Maybe it’s a sort of comfort zone in my life. A zone between my life in the Village and my dad’s, where I cant help but be reminded of my mom and the turmoil of my earlier life. Sometimes this feels more like home than anyplace I have ever known. And, if I’m honest with myself, it has for years.
There is a line in Last Tango in Paris. I don’t remember the line from the movie but I just saw it some magazine article and its rather fitting.
‘It’s over, and then it begins again.’
tuneage, Three Days Grace - The Good Life
Friday, April 30, 2010
Obsevations from the Roof 4.30
(4-29) Darkness falls later and later in the Village every night. After last night’s bright full moon an overcast sky makes it hard to see anything above the city but the flickering lights of jets heading who knows where.
Did you ever come to a point in your life, a seminal moment maybe, where paths seem to lead off in every direction? Leaving you standing alone in the crossroads wondering which path is the one to take. Standing there knowing deep down in your heart that each one leads to vastly divergent futures. One path leading to happiness, one to possible fame and glory, and another possibly the path back to hell. You have no idea which is which as the sun passes farther and farther below the horizon.
The night gets darker and darker, the darkness itself beginning to swallow you as you stand there alone, still wondering.
(4-30) As of now I don’t know which path to follow but I think it’s time to start figuring it out. A combination of a beautiful night and slight glow down one path tells me a road trip is called for. So tomorrow I think I’ll set off to reconnect with some roots. Meet up with Sean, Court, who I haven’t seen since I moved, and maybe a little walk in my mountains.
I have some projects going I need to finish up. Ash still tries to convince me that I should be her partner in her little art buying and selling endeavor. A week at the beach house not that far away, with Fred’s once again calling my name. Time is slowly running out on my chance to go back to State and JoePa. It seems an interesting summer lies ahead. Once again I have a major decision to make and once again I have no effing clue what I will do. But I think a dawn run to the mountains is called for.
But I do know one thing. This fucked up life of mine is one hell of a ride.
'you can’t quit until you try, you can’t live until you die
you can’t learn to tell the truth, until you learn to lie ....'
tuneage, Sixx AM - Life is Beautiful
Did you ever come to a point in your life, a seminal moment maybe, where paths seem to lead off in every direction? Leaving you standing alone in the crossroads wondering which path is the one to take. Standing there knowing deep down in your heart that each one leads to vastly divergent futures. One path leading to happiness, one to possible fame and glory, and another possibly the path back to hell. You have no idea which is which as the sun passes farther and farther below the horizon.
The night gets darker and darker, the darkness itself beginning to swallow you as you stand there alone, still wondering.
(4-30) As of now I don’t know which path to follow but I think it’s time to start figuring it out. A combination of a beautiful night and slight glow down one path tells me a road trip is called for. So tomorrow I think I’ll set off to reconnect with some roots. Meet up with Sean, Court, who I haven’t seen since I moved, and maybe a little walk in my mountains.
I have some projects going I need to finish up. Ash still tries to convince me that I should be her partner in her little art buying and selling endeavor. A week at the beach house not that far away, with Fred’s once again calling my name. Time is slowly running out on my chance to go back to State and JoePa. It seems an interesting summer lies ahead. Once again I have a major decision to make and once again I have no effing clue what I will do. But I think a dawn run to the mountains is called for.
But I do know one thing. This fucked up life of mine is one hell of a ride.
'you can’t quit until you try, you can’t live until you die
you can’t learn to tell the truth, until you learn to lie ....'
tuneage, Sixx AM - Life is Beautiful
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Login Failed
It changes so fast. One minute chatting to a friend the next pounding on the door to get in. You have something you need to say, something you need to do. But the door is closed tight.
Would the gods let you know?
Would they give you a sign?
Login failed
Fall asleep in the window, the moon burning bright. Wake up the moon is gone and the streets are dark. It’s light passing as always over you to shine on some new place.
Would the gods tell you to run away or stay?
Would they tell you it would be alright?
Login failed
Sitting alone, gazing into the now dark empty street below. You wonder what happened and why. Looking for a sign but everything outside is so dark and quiet.
Would you know or would the gods have to tell you?
Would they explain why?
Login failed
Everything seems to crumble around you as you sit staring. Everything you knew, everything you had, everything you wanted fading away into the night as you sit staring blankly, unable to stop it.
Would you know when it was time?
Would you?
Login failed
Login failed ….
tuneage
Would the gods let you know?
Would they give you a sign?
Login failed
Fall asleep in the window, the moon burning bright. Wake up the moon is gone and the streets are dark. It’s light passing as always over you to shine on some new place.
Would the gods tell you to run away or stay?
Would they tell you it would be alright?
Login failed
Sitting alone, gazing into the now dark empty street below. You wonder what happened and why. Looking for a sign but everything outside is so dark and quiet.
Would you know or would the gods have to tell you?
Would they explain why?
Login failed
Everything seems to crumble around you as you sit staring. Everything you knew, everything you had, everything you wanted fading away into the night as you sit staring blankly, unable to stop it.
Would you know when it was time?
Would you?
Login failed
Login failed ….
tuneage
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Observations from the Window 4.28
It’s just stunning sitting in the window watching a full moon rise over the city. You don’t often see much of the night sky in this city. No stars just neon and the glow of street lights. But a full moon cant be missed, so out of place, so beautiful.
But just a day after reading away my night in the window, I find myself pondering one of the peculiar parts of my personality. It just seems to be a total contradiction in my brain. I often call myself anti social and I am. I can put on a good show when I want to but in the end I’m just as happy or happier being left alone to observe life as it rolls by. At the same time I absolutely thrive on attention.
I’m always afraid of missing something and constantly surf my sites. Who is on, who is off, when, where, what, why? I speed my Droid through Plurk and twitter just incase. I read art sites passionately. Ash says I need a sign that says ‘it sold for what!?!’
I also call myself a Luddite but I own three computers, a Droid, and am shopping for a new laptop. I have, at last count, six email addresses, two flickr accounts, a tumblr, a plurk, and a tweeter account. And obviously you know I have a blog. Sometimes my head spins out of control just to keep up with it all. And sometimes I just know too much for my own damn good, information always being a two edged sword for me. I need to know and at the same time not. I need to be the center and the periphery. I need to be everything and nothing at all. Maybe being an anti social luddite isn’t such a bad thing in the end.
I am your worst social nightmare. The black clad artsie geek vampire queen sitting in the corner booth dazed in the glow of her LCD screen.
What a bitch.
tuneage, HIM - In Joy And Sorrow
But just a day after reading away my night in the window, I find myself pondering one of the peculiar parts of my personality. It just seems to be a total contradiction in my brain. I often call myself anti social and I am. I can put on a good show when I want to but in the end I’m just as happy or happier being left alone to observe life as it rolls by. At the same time I absolutely thrive on attention.
I’m always afraid of missing something and constantly surf my sites. Who is on, who is off, when, where, what, why? I speed my Droid through Plurk and twitter just incase. I read art sites passionately. Ash says I need a sign that says ‘it sold for what!?!’
I also call myself a Luddite but I own three computers, a Droid, and am shopping for a new laptop. I have, at last count, six email addresses, two flickr accounts, a tumblr, a plurk, and a tweeter account. And obviously you know I have a blog. Sometimes my head spins out of control just to keep up with it all. And sometimes I just know too much for my own damn good, information always being a two edged sword for me. I need to know and at the same time not. I need to be the center and the periphery. I need to be everything and nothing at all. Maybe being an anti social luddite isn’t such a bad thing in the end.
I am your worst social nightmare. The black clad artsie geek vampire queen sitting in the corner booth dazed in the glow of her LCD screen.
What a bitch.
tuneage, HIM - In Joy And Sorrow
Saturday, April 24, 2010
The Run
I woke up late for me on a Saturday morning, late that is for morning that I had been to bed before sunrise. Running across the street for a paper I was struck by the utterly gorgeous morning. Even the city air smelled fresh for a change and a plan hatched in my tired brain. I didn’t have to be at the gallery till noon, I had time.
The Run was born.
Pulling on a leather jacket I grabbed my keys and headed for Foxy. As I started the engine I rolled down the windows and popped in a fav Linkin Park CD. I backed out of my space and smiled at the security guard who was probably not expecting me to move an inch.
Heading out of the garage I made my way to Sixth Avenue and headed north. Now traffic on a Saturday morning isn’t as bad as it is the rest of the week. Just an extra dose of tourista buses to deal with. So I quickly made my way past Radio City Music Hall and drew a bead on Central Park which I intended to completely circle. I drove passed the brownstones and luxury apartments of ‘Gossip Girl’ fame, dodged the limos, and made my way around the north side of the park. Than south down the east side where i avoided the famous horse drawn carriages, the urban Amish of New York if you will. As I finished my run around the park I slid through Columbus Circle and headed Foxy south on Broadway.
Tunes were totally blaring by now as I weaved my way around assorted loons, cabbies, buses, and one mounted police officer. As I sped up on my way south I prayed to any gods who would listen that the horse couldn’t read a radar gun. I raised my middle finger in salute as I passed Madison Square Garden, home of the long hated Rangers of the NHL. Finally straight on through NYU, which was filled with swarms of students out enjoying the warm sun. This was the only point of the run where I found it difficult to keep my eyes on the road. A quick left took me around Washington Square Park, passed my apartment, and back to the garage.
Till I parked Foxy again it was about an hour of pure ecstasy. It reminded me of something my bartender buddy had said the night before. In between bands Led Zeppelin's 'Khasmir' came on the sound system. She looked at me and said 'listening to this song is as good as sex.' I know that feeling.
I know my dad would totally kill me so I’m hoping he doesn’t read this. But just incase ….
Love ya Dad!
tuneage, Linkin Park - Faint
The Run was born.
Pulling on a leather jacket I grabbed my keys and headed for Foxy. As I started the engine I rolled down the windows and popped in a fav Linkin Park CD. I backed out of my space and smiled at the security guard who was probably not expecting me to move an inch.
Heading out of the garage I made my way to Sixth Avenue and headed north. Now traffic on a Saturday morning isn’t as bad as it is the rest of the week. Just an extra dose of tourista buses to deal with. So I quickly made my way past Radio City Music Hall and drew a bead on Central Park which I intended to completely circle. I drove passed the brownstones and luxury apartments of ‘Gossip Girl’ fame, dodged the limos, and made my way around the north side of the park. Than south down the east side where i avoided the famous horse drawn carriages, the urban Amish of New York if you will. As I finished my run around the park I slid through Columbus Circle and headed Foxy south on Broadway.
Tunes were totally blaring by now as I weaved my way around assorted loons, cabbies, buses, and one mounted police officer. As I sped up on my way south I prayed to any gods who would listen that the horse couldn’t read a radar gun. I raised my middle finger in salute as I passed Madison Square Garden, home of the long hated Rangers of the NHL. Finally straight on through NYU, which was filled with swarms of students out enjoying the warm sun. This was the only point of the run where I found it difficult to keep my eyes on the road. A quick left took me around Washington Square Park, passed my apartment, and back to the garage.
Till I parked Foxy again it was about an hour of pure ecstasy. It reminded me of something my bartender buddy had said the night before. In between bands Led Zeppelin's 'Khasmir' came on the sound system. She looked at me and said 'listening to this song is as good as sex.' I know that feeling.
I know my dad would totally kill me so I’m hoping he doesn’t read this. But just incase ….
Love ya Dad!
tuneage, Linkin Park - Faint
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)