Danielle is back from building houses in Ecuador! She is calm and ethereal with rosy cheeks, and a fierce and determined stance. I am proud of my little girl. WOMAN.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
The Return of the Lazy-eyed Landlady and the Lispin' Bandit!
Danielle is back from building houses in Ecuador! She is calm and ethereal with rosy cheeks, and a fierce and determined stance. I am proud of my little girl. WOMAN.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
face it?
Don't take anything for face value.
Better yet, don't ACCEPT it.
It's a cowardly stance, that will leave you with misguided footing.
e.g. The features on my face are extremely dramatic. I have a large mouth and large eyes. My facial expressions are usually great for encouragement and admitted naysaying.
However, reacting to my expression as if you know what's on my mind is strictly prohibited. What is observed does not usually match the inner reality. Several times, I've experienced strangers or passersby, yelping at me with pained generosity, "Smile!", as if I possess a scowl more miserable than Judas. Truth be told, I was probably going over my grocery list.
Albeit it literal--that's my example.
Nothing is ever what we think it is, so why not dig deeper? Hope for layers, mystery, and secrets. Be a student.
Better yet, don't ACCEPT it.
It's a cowardly stance, that will leave you with misguided footing.
e.g. The features on my face are extremely dramatic. I have a large mouth and large eyes. My facial expressions are usually great for encouragement and admitted naysaying.
However, reacting to my expression as if you know what's on my mind is strictly prohibited. What is observed does not usually match the inner reality. Several times, I've experienced strangers or passersby, yelping at me with pained generosity, "Smile!", as if I possess a scowl more miserable than Judas. Truth be told, I was probably going over my grocery list.
Albeit it literal--that's my example.
Nothing is ever what we think it is, so why not dig deeper? Hope for layers, mystery, and secrets. Be a student.
dispatches from my quiet storm
I have spent the first month of the year, in the middle of THE storm. Most literally, it is winter. Concerning our years of climate crisis, the bizarre rise in temperatures in the early part of the month was slightly alarming, however regarding the roller coaster of cross-eyed art-ism, financial woe, and the lonely and lascivious loins I've experienced of late, I'd say it was the calm before the storm. Negating a storm's usual connotation as foreboding, and redefining it as a thing of glory.
It has been winter break for my after school program providing me with almost an entirely open schedule. My hours dwindled at the theater (Fuerzabruta!) due to less than frequent weekend shows, and usually this would be extremely fantastic and profitable. I could get extended writing done (fortunately, I have completed/caught up on more than I expected--articles, poetry, and such), last minute museum fixes, and maybe leave my house for yoga, rather than squeezing in some poses or crunches before my shower/email rush. But, that hasn't been the case. Instead, I have pinched pennies and mentally labored over finagling all of my bills.
When times get tough it signals a need for change and decision making:
no more nannying! less part time gigs! WRITING SCHEDULE!
Like old-fashioned movie advertisements or newspaper headlines, but simply just ecstatic brain-bulbs. These revelations and desires have brought me back to the service industry. My intuition always told me I'd return. I have decided that any childcare has to be super part time, to alleviate life or death responsibility and make my supplemental income do what it's supposed to do--MAKE ME SOME MONEY. I have been interviewing to wait tables throughout the city and right now I am in the middle of the inevitable waiting game that is the job hunt-- contemplating my next move.
***The previous paragraph was written a few days before I was hired at a gig I'd been hoping for. It's for a really great International company, with the vague feelings of corporate entity minus the monster--just a well-oiled machine. The money won't be fantastic at first, but it will help me budget and keep me connected for future jobs when I make my next voyage abroad.
Also, amidst all of my OVER-working in December, I somehow made a smart decision that has helped me focus throughout this foggy month. My show with the 52nd St. project goes up tonight and I am thrilled. Lots of committment and hard work were put in and I am looking forward to the weekend.
More proof that my time off wasn't wasted on worry and tangled sheets:
The next reading is being planned steadily with even hopes of a performance artist.
Regular updates of my blog. Ha!
I've uncovered some short stories and essays by Baldwin, and re-read some poetry by Brooks and Plath. More research on Lorca, Borges, and Mailer.
I am applying to graduate school, and/or a Fulbright!
***********************************************
School starts next week. Usually, the return is slightly bittersweet as I give up my month of free time. But this time around, I can't wait.
Lately, the clouds have been letting up and I can see the sun. I knew that it was always there, I just had to give myself time to find it.
I'm reaching. One day, I'll touch it and hopefully get burned.
It has been winter break for my after school program providing me with almost an entirely open schedule. My hours dwindled at the theater (Fuerzabruta!) due to less than frequent weekend shows, and usually this would be extremely fantastic and profitable. I could get extended writing done (fortunately, I have completed/caught up on more than I expected--articles, poetry, and such), last minute museum fixes, and maybe leave my house for yoga, rather than squeezing in some poses or crunches before my shower/email rush. But, that hasn't been the case. Instead, I have pinched pennies and mentally labored over finagling all of my bills.
When times get tough it signals a need for change and decision making:
no more nannying! less part time gigs! WRITING SCHEDULE!
Like old-fashioned movie advertisements or newspaper headlines, but simply just ecstatic brain-bulbs. These revelations and desires have brought me back to the service industry. My intuition always told me I'd return. I have decided that any childcare has to be super part time, to alleviate life or death responsibility and make my supplemental income do what it's supposed to do--MAKE ME SOME MONEY. I have been interviewing to wait tables throughout the city and right now I am in the middle of the inevitable waiting game that is the job hunt-- contemplating my next move.
***The previous paragraph was written a few days before I was hired at a gig I'd been hoping for. It's for a really great International company, with the vague feelings of corporate entity minus the monster--just a well-oiled machine. The money won't be fantastic at first, but it will help me budget and keep me connected for future jobs when I make my next voyage abroad.
Also, amidst all of my OVER-working in December, I somehow made a smart decision that has helped me focus throughout this foggy month. My show with the 52nd St. project goes up tonight and I am thrilled. Lots of committment and hard work were put in and I am looking forward to the weekend.
More proof that my time off wasn't wasted on worry and tangled sheets:
The next reading is being planned steadily with even hopes of a performance artist.
Regular updates of my blog. Ha!
I've uncovered some short stories and essays by Baldwin, and re-read some poetry by Brooks and Plath. More research on Lorca, Borges, and Mailer.
I am applying to graduate school, and/or a Fulbright!
***********************************************
School starts next week. Usually, the return is slightly bittersweet as I give up my month of free time. But this time around, I can't wait.
Lately, the clouds have been letting up and I can see the sun. I knew that it was always there, I just had to give myself time to find it.
I'm reaching. One day, I'll touch it and hopefully get burned.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
earnest morning breath
Loose threads-
amongst streamlined perfection,
and easygoing simplicity.
Small steps.
Right direction towards vivid target.
Loose threads, tangled.
Circulating over my lids,
snaring my dewy fervor into its web.
Loose threads.
Thick, yet minimal.
Rip them out, fondle their ends.
Keep it neat.
Start the day.
amongst streamlined perfection,
and easygoing simplicity.
Small steps.
Right direction towards vivid target.
Loose threads, tangled.
Circulating over my lids,
snaring my dewy fervor into its web.
Loose threads.
Thick, yet minimal.
Rip them out, fondle their ends.
Keep it neat.
Start the day.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Need a director?
Green is my favorite color. This has been official since a 1st grade friend ridiculed my crayon choice by unoriginally stating that,
"Girls are supposed to like pink, not green. That's for boys."
I spent the recent MLK weekend rehearsing upstate with the 52nd St. Project. It was 3 solid days of hard work, back roads, gas leaks, and knothole toast. At the end of each day, our group would commune in a large home with books in every room, warm food smells, and echoing rafters--allowing the structure that will house my brood to become more vivid in my mind.
My weekend with the Two On Twos challenged my mind and body, requiring more than caffeine as fuel for 13 hours daily of passion and creativity. I had to dig deep for nuance and trust every choice. My usual endurance/mojo/belief in my subtle art was a bit weathered, however my smile never faded.
I love directing. I forget this until I'm standing on top of tables begging my actors for faith and breakthroughs...ah.
SCANDALOUS! Plays That Tell All, The 2008 Two- on-Two's.
Come and enjoy 6 new plays written by 6 adults, directed by 6 other adults, and acted by 12 kids.
WHEN:
Friday, Feb. 1 at 7:30 p.m.
Saturday, Feb. 2 at 7:30 p.m.
Sunday, Feb. 3 at 3:00 p.m.
WHERE:
TBG Theater
312 West 36th Street, 3rd Floor
Between 8th and 9th Avenues
Admission:Free
Reservations are a must; call 212/642-5052
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
GO Jo!
My betrothed bosom buddy and super AWESOME lady, Joanne, has a fantastic new installation up at the Mac Support store in Park Slope. She's been working on the 3 panel piece for about 3 months and I am very excited to see it come into fruition.
The piece is a collage triptych using print scraps, photos, found objects, newspaper clippings, various oils, and paints to recreate the artist's private scope of the Gowanus area of Brooklyn, from date to night. If you can make it to the Park Slope Mac Support, it's definitely worth a look.
Joanne and Bo, in the beginning of the four hour installation process.
For more information on the piece, please visit www.macsupport.blogspot.com.
The piece is a collage triptych using print scraps, photos, found objects, newspaper clippings, various oils, and paints to recreate the artist's private scope of the Gowanus area of Brooklyn, from date to night. If you can make it to the Park Slope Mac Support, it's definitely worth a look.
Joanne and Bo, in the beginning of the four hour installation process.
For more information on the piece, please visit www.macsupport.blogspot.com.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
om·niv·o·rous - taking in everything, as with the mind
Hungry for all. Satiation from most.
Heart center.
Sierra and Tim's spectacular pomegranate, of which I had my FIRST taste of on Thanksgiving, a la the leafy tablecloth. Too literal, yet very pretty.
Where did I grow up???
The first OMNIVOROUS event at Carlito's Cafe in August of '06, was simple and extremely nerve-wracking. Truth be told, it was a big scraped together experimental MUST. My friends came out in drones like the good supportive honeybees (hornets?!) they are, sacrificing time to enjoy my creation. A friend's husband, William Riley, displayed his art; Crystal Chase sang with a surprise guitar accompanist; and a script written by the one and only stupendous Caroline McGraw was read. Stoop, by name.
The second event was held at the Java Studios in Greenpoint. Iandry's "group art" Pop Can helped to involve spectators--art fuckers, artists, and the art-curious become one. Text was presented by Sierra Marcks--a monologue/performance piece regarding the Children's Aid International slash NYU Tisch-ers; Richard Morales--provocative poetry and multimedia work on display; Caroline McGraw--an introductory piece on Pompeii, written for a friend's presentation of one-acts; Adam Chandler--essays on the Waffle House and ten gallon hats AND voyages in Israel; and me--new poetry and an old "Hair"-y essay.
My summer sister magically arrived in NYC from Ireland--AMANDA!!!-- all thanks to her lovely beau, Colin. It was a much needed reunion--adding a special glow to the evening. Certainly reinforcement for our wayward separated hearts... we will reconvene again!!! Her arrival allowed for a strange and beautiful opportunity to collect several of the artists from my summer residence in France.
www.catart.org
Yes, that's me- the brown face, center stage-- looking dizzy-eyed and sleepless.
A date is quickly being set for the second OMNIVOROUS reading at Java Studios. If you'd like to be a part of this or future readings, message me here or email me at omnivorous.group@gmail.com by Feb 1st.
Words in any form are welcome.
poem
prose
essay
verse
haiku
And, if you are a DJ and would like to mix it up at an event or submit a mix, please send me a message at omnivorous.group@gmail.com.
*****************************************************
The pro-seeees. Seas. Cease. Never!
Truthfully, I was reading an article on Beck's creation of Guero in the Sunday Times a few years ago, and his work or process was described as an "omnivorous quest" or something to that effect. The word leapt anew off the page and into my mouth, forcing my eyes to water and me to speak out loud on the subway.
I'd always planned I'd have some type of organized source for art--film, performance/ dance group, publication, etc. I maintained this dream/goal even whilst "conforming to Western thought", as my dear, supportive, sophisticated, and a bit straight-laced sister screeched at me when she urged me to travel abroad in the fall of '06. After quickly dismounting--or, more correctly--being aggressively booted off of the security band wagon for talking too much and laughing too loudly, it has finally begun it's journey.
"Theater as an assault on the audience."
One of my extraordinary Marymount professors said this (a quote that I have yet to remember the original genius) and it could be in Erica's dictionary of the definition of theOMNIVOROUSgroup.
I'm ready for lunch.
I believe in art. Am I art? It could be considered my religion or SOURCE, if I didn't believe that something bigger created me. I believe that art is ANSWER, an answer. And, most extraordinarily NOT for the privileged. You can subsequently be a coward, when not obtaining artistic righteousness. You have to lift yourself from the safe saga of being your own worst enemy and see your battle as important and worth fighting.
OWN/WON
Remove blinders and enjoy.
That's OMNIVOROUS--colorful and inventive disturbance as a way of life.
Heart center.
Sierra and Tim's spectacular pomegranate, of which I had my FIRST taste of on Thanksgiving, a la the leafy tablecloth. Too literal, yet very pretty.
Where did I grow up???
The first OMNIVOROUS event at Carlito's Cafe in August of '06, was simple and extremely nerve-wracking. Truth be told, it was a big scraped together experimental MUST. My friends came out in drones like the good supportive honeybees (hornets?!) they are, sacrificing time to enjoy my creation. A friend's husband, William Riley, displayed his art; Crystal Chase sang with a surprise guitar accompanist; and a script written by the one and only stupendous Caroline McGraw was read. Stoop, by name.
The second event was held at the Java Studios in Greenpoint. Iandry's "group art" Pop Can helped to involve spectators--art fuckers, artists, and the art-curious become one. Text was presented by Sierra Marcks--a monologue/performance piece regarding the Children's Aid International slash NYU Tisch-ers; Richard Morales--provocative poetry and multimedia work on display; Caroline McGraw--an introductory piece on Pompeii, written for a friend's presentation of one-acts; Adam Chandler--essays on the Waffle House and ten gallon hats AND voyages in Israel; and me--new poetry and an old "Hair"-y essay.
My summer sister magically arrived in NYC from Ireland--AMANDA!!!-- all thanks to her lovely beau, Colin. It was a much needed reunion--adding a special glow to the evening. Certainly reinforcement for our wayward separated hearts... we will reconvene again!!! Her arrival allowed for a strange and beautiful opportunity to collect several of the artists from my summer residence in France.
www.catart.org
Yes, that's me- the brown face, center stage-- looking dizzy-eyed and sleepless.
A date is quickly being set for the second OMNIVOROUS reading at Java Studios. If you'd like to be a part of this or future readings, message me here or email me at omnivorous.group@gmail.com by Feb 1st.
Words in any form are welcome.
poem
prose
essay
verse
haiku
And, if you are a DJ and would like to mix it up at an event or submit a mix, please send me a message at omnivorous.group@gmail.com.
*****************************************************
The pro-seeees. Seas. Cease. Never!
Truthfully, I was reading an article on Beck's creation of Guero in the Sunday Times a few years ago, and his work or process was described as an "omnivorous quest" or something to that effect. The word leapt anew off the page and into my mouth, forcing my eyes to water and me to speak out loud on the subway.
I'd always planned I'd have some type of organized source for art--film, performance/ dance group, publication, etc. I maintained this dream/goal even whilst "conforming to Western thought", as my dear, supportive, sophisticated, and a bit straight-laced sister screeched at me when she urged me to travel abroad in the fall of '06. After quickly dismounting--or, more correctly--being aggressively booted off of the security band wagon for talking too much and laughing too loudly, it has finally begun it's journey.
"Theater as an assault on the audience."
One of my extraordinary Marymount professors said this (a quote that I have yet to remember the original genius) and it could be in Erica's dictionary of the definition of theOMNIVOROUSgroup.
I'm ready for lunch.
I believe in art. Am I art? It could be considered my religion or SOURCE, if I didn't believe that something bigger created me. I believe that art is ANSWER, an answer. And, most extraordinarily NOT for the privileged. You can subsequently be a coward, when not obtaining artistic righteousness. You have to lift yourself from the safe saga of being your own worst enemy and see your battle as important and worth fighting.
OWN/WON
Remove blinders and enjoy.
That's OMNIVOROUS--colorful and inventive disturbance as a way of life.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
I AM 25 by Gregory Corso
a little Mailer-esque
With a love a madness for Shelley
Chatterton Rimbaud
and the needy-yap of my youth
has gone from ear to ear:
I HATE OLD POETMEN!
Especially old poetmen who retract
who consult other old poetmen
who speak their youth in whispers,
saying:--I did those then
but that was then
that was then--
O I would quiet old men
say to them:--I am your friend
what you once were, thru me
you'll be again--
Then at night in the confidence of their homes
rip out their apology-tongues
and steal their poems.
*I originally posted this poem surrounding my 25th birthday, in an attempt to not collect myself and to take things less seriously. As my 26th year approaches, I have decided to repost this to serve as a healthy reinforcement of my steady maturation as I hit that late twenties bracket. Gasp!
Monday, January 14, 2008
SWEET NOTHINGS
You have a sexy pensive quality.
Your worry turns me on.
Anxiety is hot.
Bon bon butterscotch baby.
Collapse into firey demonic disguises.
Saturate your flames with my dizzy distraction.
Closer to my dreams, she said?!
Eventual ecstasy is my silver lining.
Horizontal lighthouse beacon guide.
I will apprehend myself
And think of an excuse for my lateness.
Your breath remains,
on my skin’s ear delivering,
Sweet nothings.
Your worry turns me on.
Anxiety is hot.
Bon bon butterscotch baby.
Collapse into firey demonic disguises.
Saturate your flames with my dizzy distraction.
Closer to my dreams, she said?!
Eventual ecstasy is my silver lining.
Horizontal lighthouse beacon guide.
I will apprehend myself
And think of an excuse for my lateness.
Your breath remains,
on my skin’s ear delivering,
Sweet nothings.
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