waiting for the food dehydrator to work its magic

I have met many loves who sought to teach me how to love, or rather, how not to love. But I am a baby. I am an old lady. Still so fresh and setting like the sun in a jell-o mold. I know there is a place where you can feel like a baking pie, so fresh with expectation, emanating comfort smells that attract and ensnare. I have been adored, though mostly i am adoring. I can love a certain $10 000 stove and admire its beauty without feeling poor and small in my inability to HAVE IT. I want to shake the world and say: HEY I"M TALKING HERE. But I also appreciate my speck-o-dustness. This is everything. This is nothing. I love it.

10:46 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

post tour decompression

I managed to continue living life as a vacation upon my return to Canada. Trips to the Eastern Townships, the Laurentians and Old Montreal engendered a 'soft landing'. Today, 16 days after my return, i feel a bit of post-tour blues. The business of getting to work big time is now upon us. But it's friday and there is a dance party tonight. Everything will be ok. You can be free. Alles fur alles.

3:10 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

safe in the busom of the brood

I have a large family. Oh, yes, the people i meet, the daily platonic love affairs, the folks who fall as i fall for them, they too form a large mass of interconnectedness. But, what I really mean is: there are a lot of people related to me. This morning I sit at a table made by someone related to me, designed by someone married to someone related to me who cooked for us last night. A fine dinner it was. i have fallen out of love with restaurants. If you care for me, cook for me. Let me do your dishes. Let me sleep within the sheets of your guestroom and keep sleeping as you shuffle off to work in the morning. Leave me your keys. These are the special things that loved ones can offer. Thank the skies and all the baby stars for them!

Tonight I perform at the Bethnal Green Working Men's Club with some delicious art stars.Marcia Farquar! Rosie Dennis! Two guys I don't know! Fun times for all. If you live in London, you should come.

2:12 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

barcelona is a noisy, fragrant town

My room has a nice balcony and if I am in the mood for some techno musique concrète, I sleep with the windows open. My lullaby is anti-sleep. It says: WE ARE ALIVE AND WE HAVE NEEDS. Televisions blare, children throw heavy things, cars boom by with personal discotecas in their bellies. My central system has chosen a lousy time to slow down. This tickle that threatens to be a cold? Hate it. This phlegm that rises up my aesophagus? Lousy. And then there is the pain of being a woman. Oh, man. Oh, woman. It cannot be helped. I soldier through swallowing garlic and ibuprofen. I drink championship levels of water with lemon. I will survive. Tonight I have a show at Nìu and with it, i hope, comes the opportunity to finally meet some catalans.

4:36 AM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

earnest and embarassed
Current mood: none or other

we should like to rewire our circuitry to make this machine less vulnerable to outside pressure. we speak of the weather and its systems that cause mildew and condensation to seep from facial orifices. We speak also of the harsh glare of the sun shining thru the eyes of all the other robots. There are robots with 100$ haircuts who wheel about with well-oiled parts. They post the most incredible data through their virtual avatars. They are never alone, they always have drinks and white belts and a pressing urgency to their expedience. We are always alone, especially in large crowds. We huddle schizophrenically, sheltering our parts from the mighty winds, silently praying for a recall.

12:02 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment