"I wake alone- pretend that I am finally home."

Good morning.
I'm up and it's just barely light out, the sky is yawning, the most ambitious birds sneaking in their first chirps. It doesn't feel real- this navy sky moment before the world breaks out into vivid song.

But here I am. I fly to las vegas today. I am going to a marketing meeting today. I am renting photo equipment today. I am taking a shower today. I am sending a lover something sweet in the mail today. I am going to smile today. I will look nicer than usual today. I will spend time with my dad today.

The title of this post is from one of my favorite old Cursive songs. The Recluse.
It's pretty heart-wrenching. More than I feel at the moment, but here's the thing- I've been traveling since June and it's hard to remember the definition of home. Is it where you sleep at night? Where your family is? Where you're paying rent? Where you reside? Where your things are? Where people know you? Where you helped paint the walls? A place where you feel safe?

Sometimes I think home is in the arms of another, but see- then a breakup renders you homeless.

I have paid mortgages and taken out loans for a home built of love. So many times over. Still I only have this plot of land inside my chest.

 I am going to build a garden where my heart should be.

Medium Format Crush

It costs so much to develop & scan, and you  can only use a few of every roll, but damn- talk about gorgeous grain. Taken with Lomography Lubitel.

Vintage Beauty, North Carolina

"All the words you say at the end of the day"

Dark Dark Dark- Say the word

I can never forget the ceviche.

Every time I juice a lime, there's you in my kitchen that day.

Table set, meal prepared, tequila cocktail at the ready-

all that love squeezed into all that raw pink.

Me, work-weary & you, like silver, just polished.

Serving shine. I smiled so wide

a circus set up shop on my chin 

and used my lips for trapeze.

A hologram of the nothing that once was something.

Fresh citrus sting from fingertip to heart-folder: open memory. 

I am switching to the bottled kind to practice kitchen safety.

I do not wish to squeeze.

Dark Dark Dark- Bright Bright Bright

Fine Art Film Sneak Peek "Somewhere Elsewhere"

Here you go: the first peek at my first still from my first short film series.

A day of firsts. First thing in the morning.

(styling, directing, shoot, makeup, all of it- by yrs truly.)

North Carolina: Asheville

 

 

State of Dreams: North Carolina

Hello world.

I have arrived Elsewhere after being all over this pretty north carolina. 

I'll be spending the next month making art, pushing boundaries, exploring, learning, dreaming, coming true.

I'm heading in. Cover for me. 

This Week: on set with Parazit & other random bits of joy

------------------------------------
Over & Out,
Me

I AM JUST A PERSON

A very lost person.

Let you put your hands on me in my skintight jeans.

Happy belated valentines day
(c'mon, I'm a poet, I can enjoy sentiment).
These are a few lusty & lovely shots of my sweetie & I taken by Adot.


And on certain days, life IS a fairytale.
I've got the (faggy) price,
the (anarchist co-op) castle,
the (drag-queen) dresses,
the (artsy) life,
the (poly-communication) fairy godmother,
the (homobile) chariots,
the (dirty queer) ball-

I've got golden gate park as a front yard
and the presidio as a backyard.
Turkish coffee around the corner
and fresh picked oranges in the kitchen.
I've got a performer poet mentor and
cheap classes and endless access to knowledge
at my click-clack of any key.

I teach dreamy students about the craft of fiction
and we create characters
& close third person narratives till the bell rings.

Tell me, how to pretend that I'm not Cinderalla?
That writer doomed for sleeping in the soot
dying alone and miserable like Dorothy Parker or Poe?

C'est la vie.

When all else fails, there are beautiful girls to look at.
Here's one I shot recently.
<3

Welcome to 2011

This year thus far I've had:

2 readings

1 kickstarter finish

2 attempts at singing on stage in public

1 art show

1 storybook romance

1 massive writing crush on Regie Cabico

2 excuses to wear a wedding dress

1 song written for me

1 EP recorded (Let Bloom)

8 days of voice rest

1 city traveled to that I'd never been to (NOLA)

endless, endless inspiration

My rooms in piles around me

somewhere inside those piles is my wallet

which is mostly empty

but still

Tonight I get to be a fancy Teacher's Assistant for the first time ever:

Hello, future? Will I be a College Professor? We await an answer with baited breath.

Next time on the fabulously confused life of the average poet.

Dancing in the streets of New Orleans

Pauper's Cemetary, NOLA

Bywater, NOLA

A Farm, Outside of Houston

9th Ward, NOLA

Houston, TX