Tag Archives: pictures

Crazy Lady On The Beach

30 Oct

First week of bookwork is done, made all the boxes so could check all the things off…cuz that is the best part. 

…One of the things: my weekly “Artist’s Date,” I paired with my “Imaginary Lives” list, and went to be an Archaeologist for the afternoon, on Saturday. Not for real, of course, mostly as a gesture of representation. But when you’re hunched over with a plastic tub, and a gardening spade, sitting on your haunches at the seaside…picking at (and through) insignificant shit while curious dog walkers pass by, and kids stop to stare at you, cuz, “what the hell, lady?” It kinda steals a little of your thunder.

…Until you eventually start getting into it, and make a staging of your findings on some leaves for picture-taking purposes, and feel terribly importantly artistic as you try to flick those tiny crab claws open –because that’s just more aesthetically pleasing, and also: “Oh Fuck off! I’m trying to ART here, dude! You just picked your dog’s shit up in a hand baggie, and put it in your pocket. I totally saw you! Who’s the REAL wierdo here, really?!?”

(…I’m also dealing with anger issues. And being more positive…)

I am a work in progress.

Anyway…I picked at things buried under rocks and twigs, I took some arty pics, I sat on an “Alice” log, contemplating its navel. I breathed. I watched pokey sticks gouge at the shore. I wrote a little thing. 

…I Be’d.

…And then I went home, popped my findings in a baggy, and clipped em to my Wall of Wonder…to look back on. 

…Whenever. 

…To that one time I was a marine archaeologist. 

…Which is way better than being a poop-scooping, pocket warmer. So there.

“Only Alice Knows”“Breathe.”“Messy Bow”“Those metaphorical shards of life shit that just keep coming at you, wave after wave.”“Things Found”“The Random Details”

…I also managed my morning pages after a full night’s sleep, every night…found about four or five really good brain-dig findings, and that I am still PTSDing from that last show so hard, that just being on stage is upending me. 

I’m fighting the battle onward, in front of a live audience, nightly…which is my only option. An interestingly (when it’s not you, probably) terrifying, and often very hopeless feeling, which I get to share intimately, not only with my castmates…but the several hundred other people at a time who are (unbeknownst to them) paying to see it.

I can only do what I can.

A break after this show, (for quite a bit of time)…while I try and figure this shit all out, and learn to trust the stage again…is necessary. 

…Meanwhile, not unlike that dude with the dog: when shit happens, I palm it best as I can and pretend, as I fight on, that this is a totally normal part of life. 

…While super wishing I had a trashbin somewhere, to throw it the fuck away.

~D

Naughty Girl

26 Jun

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After two years, I’ve added a new member to the family. 

…Jumping ship to Sprint, for the pure purpose of securing the specific phone I’ve been lusting for, (in a price range I can actually afford), she is now on her way to me.

…And will soon be making others lust after her as well.

…For I have built her a custom case…spending hours tonight, flipping through google pics for just the right image to grace it.

With a pour-out of Scotch, and the Julie London Pandora station on in the background for inspiration, I surfed to my little heart’s content, pulling and pimping pictures from classic films specifically…as I decided her sleek frame and saucy smarts insisted on it. 

Grant and Garbo, Davis and Dietrich…I spent a very enjoyable twenty minutes just on “Classic film kisses” (and highly suggest a decedent play time with that when you have a moment)…moving then into Hurrell’s portraits as a main focus, then full-out Noir.

Noir is where I remained the rest of the evening.

…Wonderful shots…shadows and smoke abounding.  God, they knew how to light in those days, and had these face that just slap you stupid with seduction.

…Which ushered in one of m’fav dames in the good ol’ MGM golden years of cinema. Someone I’d be totally cool with being when I grow up (minus the 3 husbands): Ava Gardner.

If you haven’t yet, you should watch her. Or, hell, even just look at her.

…If you hang around me much, you’ll have plenty of option to, now.  She’s been selected as the new poster girl for the newest family addition.

And as I name virtually everything, (further referring to it upon occasion in my blog), may I introduce you to the new kid in the house, and digital BFF: “Naughty Girl.”

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…We are gonna get into SO much trouble together.  I can’t even wait.

…Especially leaving her face-down on every surface I can find, as a terribly titillating conversation starter. 

…Among other things.

(heh, heh.)

~D

In The Hood

3 Sep

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I’ve decided to take you on a walk with me today. 

…I’ll point out some stuff along the way, while you feel jealous because when you go on walks, you stay in your neighborhood, but when I go on walks, almost every building I pass by takes me to a totally new location in the world, and/or historical point of time.

For instance we have the English Cottage.  The wisteria-draped front door, and combination of manicured topiary enhanced lawn has no idea it is actually planted in the Pacific Northwest.   
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…But it shouldn’t feel bad about it…because this house thinks it’s in Greece.  I defy you to change it’s mind on that point.
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Here, we have our very own version of the Winchester Mansion, in that the people who live here never seem to think the place is big enough, so have continued to grow it in various directions for years now.
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…Meanwhile, this is where the Hobbits live when they move away from The Shire.
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…And this place thinks it is the starring feature of all of the Bronte novels.
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We have an actual Psycho house up on the hill…(and yes, those are mounted camcorders pointing at you.)
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We have ethnic diversity who live here, and brought the primary colors Crayola box with them.  (As a representative of said peoples, can I just ask: wtf is with the bitch-slap-you brightness of our buildings, people?)
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…There is the place that thinks it’s an English hunting lodge.
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…The one that wants to be a castle when it grows up.  (Turrets anyone?)
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…The one who thinks its in Nantucket.
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…And the one they stole out of a Dickens novel. (I give you: the place where Miss Havisham lives.)
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One of many representatives from the D.C. crowd is shown here.
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“Welcome to New England,” might as well be posted on a flag outside this door.
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This claims it’s in the Hollywood hills, circa 1920.
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And, this one actually thinks it’s the White House.
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Hey…you could move to the Mediterranean OR save your money and just pretend to, by living here.
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You can go back in time and live in this original Mike Brady design.
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Have coffee of the future.
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Eat in the 50’s.
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…Default to the Victorian.
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…Visit the Hogwarts stand-in.
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…Frequent the 40’s drugstore (that still makes deliveries)
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…Relocate to Spain.
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…Move in with the modern-day Flintstones.
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…Or, masquerade as an eternal Frat Houser.
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This is all within one giant loop of my own little home. Which I think you can agree ain’t bad for a couple mile radius that could fill an entire passport, and break some serious time-continuum laws. Not bad at all.

~D

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