Its only seed

So I'm posting this for no particular reason except that i heard it playing in the Rite Aid earlier and I got all tingly and misty. This movie seriously is like, one of the most amazing musicals, rock docs, divine miss m performances and odes to janis joplin EVER. There are so many things about this movie that make it near perfect, most of which is this song- pure restrained, controlled, difficult to sing, musical theater genius. this song is insanely difficult to sing. I hear this song and wish i hadn't stopped singing or started smoking, or even turned into a fucktard, i used to be able to sing this fairly decent.
This movie makes me think of hee haw, we watched it the first year we lived together once we finally got a tv and dvd player. on the couch, under a quilt, snuggled away from the harsh snow, and we didn't look at each other or talk, and let each other wipe our tears in private. when it was over we went to our rooms and never spoke of it again.


One more thing!
Lisa, one of my best friends and arguably my most successful friend (it really depends on your definition of success)Made this most adorable little stop motion film as a promo for her 08 lines.
Since I'm all nostalgic for NY I went trolling the internet for her stuff, trying to see how much more expensive her clothes are then my entire years worth of rent. When I first moved to NY Lisa let me stay with her for three weeks while i got adjusted. I slept in her bed and on the couch while her and Sofie furiously worked day in and day out putting together Vena Cava's first and debut fashion show ever. I think about it now and we all just so insane. I am forever indebted to the kindness of Lisa.

Here's a photo of us back in the day, both of us on the brink, me of turning into before mentioned fucktard, and her, a multi millionaire.
Ah, dreams, they take us so far.

we are spirits in the material world

Athena came to visit for a long weekend and let me tell you, wow, what an amazing time we had. since I've left NY Ive had a hard time trying to reconcile my experiences there. now that I'm back in la, those five years seem like a dream, a dejevu to a place i might have been. a commercial on the superhighway of my life.
but as soon as i saw Athena's face at the airport it came rushing back in a thunderous wave, i realized that the city itself is not what had left an impression, it was the faces, the friendships and people that i made and met. Chinatown and its pungent smell, chasing footsteps down the tiny sidewalks, hot, sweaty, under the moonlight, drunk, shouting and laughing, calling for heather and reaching for laura's hand in a crowded bar, dancing on tables on Halloween, sitting on the jennifer leather couch with the harrigans, yelling at the tv screeen, ducking into yolas with buddy and alice to get burritos, every little thing you do is magic. i miss my friends, i miss ny. when i woke up on monday, the morning after taking athena back to the airport i half hoped that when i opened my eyes id be in my small room at 113 maujer, wrapped inside a sheet burrito, freezing cold because we cant afford the heat in winter, leon at the foot of my bed, warming my legs, heathers voice dancing in the hallway, her boots clanging the wooden floors, the door slamming at the bottom of the stairs, her cell phone conversation trailing down the street and bouncing into crisp air, where it stays, frozen like a memory. i really wanted ny today. i think it just hit me, im not going home, im not on vacation, i live in los angeles. i felt very homesick today. i felt very far from my life.
BUT the past weekend was awesome, we went to the machine project thing at LACMA which was amazing and I was introduced to the magic that is lasagna cat, which, if you dont know what it is, please do yourself a favor and check it out, we went on the ferris wheel at on the santa monica pier and walked along the sand, we also saw a truly pornographic, not right for kids to watch trapeze artist, whose package was on display in a see through white sock. he also looked like a total tucker max, frat boy douche bag, the whole thing was very bizarre. we drove through hollywierd, visiting graumans chinese theatre and the wax museum. and then we went to the prop 8 protest, which was emotional and huge. and too much food to mention. it was a time indeed. and finally after she left i took a photo of my office at sunset, in all my writerly life, all ive ever wanted was an office with a window, thank you los angeles, everything happens for a reason at the right time.

Noah Purifoy's journals

It was electric.

more geological digging

this is the first shit i was ever addicted to, seriously, like i remember dry heaving in the car because we were stuck in traffic and i was going to miss this shit. literally, nose pressed against the passenger seat window fogging up the glass with panic.
watching it now i got a little tingle in my down there parts for joey. woah! before High Life, before Boones, before beadies, weed and led zepplein, even before the doors, there was this amazing jazzy little thing that filled 45 seconds of each week with delirious happy psychosis.
when i finish writing this essay, i will never ever breath the name axl rose again, at least for five years.

And while were at it, here it is, the source of all my youthful affection, i wallpapered my room with his posters. I guess not alot has changed, im still a sucker for curly brown locks and big brown eyes, in fact i never realized it till right now, but a couple of my x boyfriends look like joey russo (ive had the good fortune of dating some exquisite looking men- on a side note, because of this, i only date like, once every three years). actually this song is not as bad i was expecting my older musical listen to be, its sort of better than most of the pop on the radio today. im not sure if that depresses me.
i think i still dance like this.

Horse With No Name

I spent the weekend in Joshua Tree at High Desert Test Sites, then Paul and Daniel and I decided to splinter off on our own and explore the desert. To call it intense is an understatement, The Salton Sea, Salvation Mountain and Slab City- we felt a million miles away from the artists and Marnie Webber Bienial crowd we had left the night before. Don't fuck with the desert, the desert forgets nothing and turns everything to rust.
Seriously, it was like breathing ghosts in and pushing their spirits down into your soul, their lives get caught in your throat, abandoned honeymoon suites, sea side bars, and 1950's vacation motels, rusted air line steamer campers with pink stoves and vintage tins of folgers coffee, blowing and clattering inside their bullet shaped tombs, meanwhile all the poverty and decay that's sprung up in its forgotten cracks stares wide-eyed as you peer through dusted windows and crawl under boarded off doorways. Dead fish, dying pelicans and salt, meth addicts and ford pickups that never get traded in but just get repaired.
We also hit Noah Purifoys sculpture garden in the desert and that was breathtaking and surreal.