Thursday, January 29, 2009

2006, 2007 Flight

Stand up! Keep your backs straight! Remember that is where the wings grow." -Martha Graham

Do you remember when I was obsessed with wings?
I do.

Saturday, January 24, 2009


Happy 9th Birthday, Daniel B., dearest of little brothers
(not that I don't absolutely love the other three . . .).

Today, not only did I eat copious amounts of pizza and frosting (I would do this anyway), ALMOST play laser tag, divy out 200 tokens to 9 little boys and girls, dominate at DDR (I would do this anyway), and steal some little kid's scooter and terrorized a skate rink for about two minutes, but I got to half-heartedly do that time-honored and annoying ritual of dancing the "Y.M.C.A."
and the "Hokey Pokey" (50 bucks to the first person who can tell me why humanity really wonders/ponders/over uses the pun of "that's what it's all about").

This is just plain ridiculous. And ugly. I wish the hokey pokey had better graphic art.

I say that it's about time to find a new obsession and latch on on to other subliminal meanings in fun party songs that could possibly be played at a 9 year old's birthday party at Classic Skating.

For example: just who was it that put the bop in the bop-shoo-bop-shoo-bop?

Oh, to be nine again.

Oh, to actually want to party at Classic Skating again.

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Stuck in my teeth

I'm pretty much obsessed.

This is the real deal.

I mean . . . just look at it . . .

Friday, January 16, 2009

Safe keeping

I needed an easier way to watch this video.
So I'm putting the link here. This is more for me than you.

Single Ladies

The Mermaid Dance Monologue

(Dearest friends . . .
Last year, I got to re-live my most embarrassing moment, on stage (Thanks a mill CDE).
I just found the copy of my monologue.
Just pity eleven year old Claire.
Or play in the pool with me come Monday night's Swim Club)

The space under the water slide makes the perfect secret mermaid cave. It is the command center where I issue orders the other members of my mermaid clan. Age eleven, I have spent the summer swimming happily in the neighbor's backyard pool. I play there with my friends, who are about four years my junior. I never seem to get along with the girls my own age, since they are all too old to play my make-believe fairytale games. Too bad for the girls that won't play with us, because we have the time of our lives dusting the world with pixie dust made out of sidewalk chalk, setting out traps for unicorns, and counting the scales on our colorful fins.

On this hot summer day, I'm busy wiggling around with my mermaid sisters. We make quick escape after quick escape from the terrifying sharks and sea monsters. As we swim faster and faster around the pool to escape the predators, we also begin to get louder and louder. The stakes are raised, the chase continues, but tragically I become thoroughly invested the throes of

a dramatic


death scene.

I hear someone call out my name. The voice isn't familiar and it isn't female. Slowly, I stop my noisy splashing and struggling and look up. There in the window stand two boys from my class at school: My little friend's older brother and the boy who I secretly have a large crush on.

I freeze.

There is no possible way that I can save face now. No one my age should be playing mermaids with the little kids in the neighbor's backyard pool. I have been caught doing the most uncool thing a person could possibly ever be doing. I am completely ruined forever. I quickly sink beneath the water and swim along the bottom of the pool to my former perfect secret mermaid cave. But my cave has lost its appeal now.

I sigh the sad sigh of a social pariah.

I begin to grow up.

Harrisburg, PA? Albany, NY.

"Everywhere you go, you see women more beautiful then yourself.

You imagine him being attracted to them.

You're drink gasoline to stay warm."


"When he calls and tells you he misses you, you invite him over. He spends the night.

In the morning, he asks where his razor is. You tell him that you threw it away when you broke up. He says,





-from "The Girls Guide To Hunting and Fishing", by Melissa Bank

Seriously people. You need to read this book.


October 25, 2006 1:06 AM

(This was written for me by Rocky (aka Paper Face) and left on my photo comments for the picture of Re-loo and Myself laying in the leaves.)

When I was coming down
through the canyon,
fast as I could go
kicking through the soft-damaged
sage, when I was running
from the law
with tiny tree bites
on my face, the sun
just swallowed by the terra folds,
I passed a starlet with a camera
flashing the grass
for blue-sheathed believers
idling elbow to elbow
so content
in the mild serration
of the leaves.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Street Cred

(You'll have to REALLY examine these photos if you REALLY want to find out
what is what is what is what.)

They're called "Guilty Pleasures" for a reason.

Come on.

Don't ruin my street cred.

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Jessica and her camera get along quite well.

My dear dear dear beautiful friend, Jessica Peterson
(Jessica's Official Photography Website
asked me to help spice up her artistic statement.
Here lies the fruit of my efforts.
Some people, when excited, wave their arms and waggle their fingers and other necessary extremities to articulate and punctuate their sentences. Some people, when joyful, dance jigs and click their heels together three times. Some people, when distraught, lie on the floor for a week, moan un-earthy sounding moans, and later start successful careers in pop music. Jessica Peterson, can, will, and does blink once, and the sum of all the sentiments, opinions, and truth of living in this green world, is gathered in photo form.
Jessica and her camera get along quite well.
They hold hands and skip through existence responding and reacting to the beauty and life that surrounds all. Jessica and her camera can build forts under tables with blankets, make up secret passwords (using pig-Latin and actual Latin), and tip toe softly to be the first to see Christmas morning. Jessica and her camera will spill enormous vats of golden light onto the audience that digests the creative nuance and dynamics that populate this artwork.

Jessica swam through blood, sweat, and tears and blissfully earned her BFA in Photography from Art Center in Pasadena CA in 2006. She has been working independently as a freelance photographer, as well as an in-house photographer and editor at a stock production company.