The dynamic and static coefficient of velocity

There's slurry on the track.

They say be careful, it's hot and the track is without her rubber skin. Naked and new she will send you sliding...in her parameter is your dust...your dust is star dust, your dust is my dust. 

(Crash...crash into me...let go and slam into my frame.)

Take your foot off the brake and skid into my sleeping shoulder. 

Wake me up!

 Let me wedge myself in the cracks of your tires, and stick to the back of your throat.

 I am the presence in your absence, the mistake you won't make...is that why  you wont wake me? 

Velocity. Acuity. Timidity. 

I am something other than you. 

I'll bite your tires and kick rocks at your metallic door, I will dig holes in your road and bark into the night...

Until you let me in, or I disapear in the dust and the rust that surrounds you.  

The accidental publisher

Yesterday I accidentally published a book. HA!  I was playing around on LULU and figured they would ask for a credit card or something before one could actually complete a publishing project like that but no...one last button and the sign came up..."Congratulations - you have now published your book!"

And then...because it was so easy...I did another one. This time the giant mistake was that I thought I was making little pocket size books...but when I got to the end I realized I had made something else. I can't figure out exactly what it is but it looks cool and I've ordered some of both to see what they look like physically.

You can buy them from LULU at these link..

  

The Times

We just started getting the Times again, which means, among other things, that we get a little death with our breakfast.

It is the juxtaposition of that death and these pastries (and then the dog climbing up on the table and eating them all...) that makes this morning rich.

Looking at my boyfriend I tell him he's aged since the last time I photographed him  with the times. "Thanks so  much" he says as I study the gray coming in at his temples.

"I wonder if you'll go bald" I said to him a few days back. "I wonder if you will" he said back. I wonder.

While savoring the beauty of my morning I thought about a little girl I know who's mother is schizophrenic and who I last saw in the caf at school with her dad. She had just been put in foster care and he was bringing her food that her mother made. A whole big cooked pink fish in tinfoil which she unwrapped and ate with her fingers just like that. There was a strange beauty in that moment too.

Then I got on to the business of eating and drinking coffee reading about Osama's sex life...! Who knew? Who would have thunk.

I guess everyone loves in their own way and finds beauty in all sorts of different things, Nina Simone was crooning away about it this morning...I think about it constantly.

Love and beauty and how they're so tangled up with repulsion and pain. 

One persons graffiti might be anthers Mona Lisa. One persons whole pink fish is anothers Raunauds pastry. One persons nemesis another persons savior. 

My boyfriend is aging, as am I, but in him I see the grey hairs coming in as markers of  time passing - time that I get to be with him. 

I look. He looks. He reads and I photograph and think about the girl and the fish. The dog ate the pastries but there's still coffee...and time, and love to be had and a vast beauty in all sorts of unexpected places if you care to look. 

Opening last night

Thank you to all the  great people who turned out for the Brad Nack curated show at Michaelkate last night! Fantastic event- and everyone who works there is so sweet! It's a great art venue, and a great local business.

Here are links for some of the talented people I saw there...check out their work! Then tell me who I missed and I'll link them too! I'm still a bit blurry this morning.

Kristen Hawkes

Maurie Lord

Sabra Weber

Rob Taylor and Aaron Campos

Rita Ferri of the SB Arts Commission

Hugh Margerum

Mollycules

James Van Arsdale and Kimberly Hahn

Rey Villalobos

Parry Gripp

Aylene Rhiger

Ted Mills

Jim Connolly and Anna Abbey

Brad Nack

Dan Levin

Madalena Fossatti

Greg Eliason

Leon Olson

Diana Healey

and there are TUNS of people who I can't find websites for! Wayne and Penny McCall, Anna Abbey, Elaine Esbeck of Frame, Rebekah Lovejoy, Sean Kennedy, and all the rest!!

Thanks everyone!  

Stuff...the system

I've been thinking about systems. Systems of organizing this surplus, this extra energy...this leftover desire. The entrails of my extensive rhyzomic interests are tangled around my limbs and are weighing me down.

As soon as I invent some system, or organizational style, or way that I think will help me move forward...I abandon it.  What's up with that?

When I was little I believed in the sea. The concept of entropy made sense to me a little later, followed by Hegel and the dialectic. Somewhere in college it was the butterfly effect and Chaos theory and more recently the various philosophical takes on the concept of desire...and the lack have seamed to sum "it" all up. Right. It. 

"One two three, eyes on me."

"One two, eyes on you."

It. You. Me.

I crave protection. I crave solidity and staying power. I crave follow through and commitment and a sense of humor would really help allot.

What I have is an exquisite knot. A baroque and tragic tangle with parts that are so painfully beautiful, and others that are just plain excruciating.

I also have some relics and some not so sheep like tendencies, which make maneuvering with said relics difficult.

Appetition. Volition.

Ubi Sunt?

Movement. Change. The journey.

You can think epic hero traveler or pathetic clown like vagabond. 

This process has elements of both.

I'm going to land for a while now, if I can remember how.

Go back before you can't

They say you can't go back.

What if you knew this before it, whatever it was, was over.

What if you had the foresight to imagine you could never return to a place

or a person

or a time

or a  situation

and with that foresight you did, you did go back every day until you really couldn't any more?