Mama Buzz Cafe. April 25th, 2010.

A night of music that makes a person want to kiss the person next to them,
just to maybe hold on to something beautiful.

Kaylee Cole

Shenandoah Davis

Zoe Boekbinder

Albany Bulb

The magic of this city is partially in leaving it.
Taking a train to a girl with a car-
and traveling to a shoreline with concrete graffiti beaches & salty air.


You are so far from the urban yet encased in the radical.
You sit on a log & let the sun discover freckles on your face.
You drink gluten-free beer and dream of shanty towns.

Watch the fog roll in and hide all the bridges back to your home.

Queer-tisement

Check out #1 from my series, entitled NIKE:

I'm not the best at linocut (carving is HARD.) and I'm not the best artist ever, but I'm super into the non-gendered ass & commanding people in overtly sexual ways.

Gatorade & McDonalds still to come! Yay!

Love,

"And emptiness still leaves a space"

I am single and all my life is turning topsy-turvy. In response, I have taken many long walks, spent too much time on facebook, made-out, listened to Au Revoir Simone + Kim Boekbinder + Rue Manouche + The Bodice Rippers, and bought a $1 zine at Modern Times.


The brilliant blathering author of said zine had one highly quotable quote:

"I write because sometimes I really want to cry and the tears won't come out and writing may or may not change that but it is a hell of a lot more interesting than sitting on my bed staring at the ceiling."

[Patrick Dundon]

I had to lose myself to love you better

A relationship is a series of compromises.

What happens when you forget who you might be if you were alone?

Where does we end and you begin?

Oh the glory of being a we fades fast in unknown cities. The I and the you have so similar an agenda. The folly.

AH, and not to forget the mild mild winter of a place that's never quite cold enough to warrant staying in, never quite warm enough to spend the night out-

It's that hovering that slows you down, one foot on either side of the doorway, procrastinating decisions till spring, when new things are born. Maybe decisions will bloom clearly and without apology like the seeds you're going to plant in the morning.

My winter:

All I Want is a Room Somewhere...

Far away from the cold Frisco air, with one well-lit wall, oh- wouldn't it be lovely?

Ah, I've moved from a house with a sniveling selfish anger-ridden roommate in the sunny Mission to a coop full of queer, radical, and cheerful kids in the foggy Inner Richmond- right next to haight ashbury & golden gate park. It's been a crazy few days- we had to repaint our room the moment we moved in to fight the mold! 3 days of straight painting, on top of the three huge art art art happenings makes this week a serious challenge.

What three things, you might ask?

1. My photo/illustration collaboration with the beautiful + fantastically talented Molly Crabapple is LIVE on F/lthy Gorgeous Th/ngs.


2. My self-portrait was picked to be in a LIFE SIZE GAME OF "GUESS WHO?"- how amazing. The girls making this show are both incredibly talented and super sweet!



3. On behalf of Lowbrow Society, I'm curating my first west-coast art show! Urban Ho-Down! This Saturday night, complete with 10 artists and bicycle hay rides.

My life is pretty magically busy-
If only it would stop raining!

A kiss about apple pie a la mode

A truth: I really want my life to be a movie, an epic story, an album.

It's not that I have some crazy ego, it's just that media is in someways a deeper connection than reality. If there's no magic or chaos, I'm not interested.

And some days, you have to say: a real life is not enough.

You have to buy a book called " A Great and Terrible Beauty." You have to bake a chicken pot pie and draw hearts on the steamy windows. You have you kiss your person too many times while they wait to a shower. You have to make muffins with those old bananas so perfect butter aches to melt on 'em. You make a zine with your two best friends. You dream of a city you used to live in that moved as fast as you run when you miss the bus. You feel softer, slower, sweeter, and you cozy with green tea and a stray cat. You make organic juices for soon-to-be mothers with rosy cheeks. You dream up the end of the week-long monsoon.

You have to come home. Have to write about it. Have to make it more than just the motions you go through.

I was born into reality, a rawness. I will bake myself into enchantment. I know just the recipe.