dear ian moore band

it could be dangerous if i continue to do merch for you in austin. dangerous in the "totally rad adventures this way come" way.
i've already committed myself to trying roller derby and it's all your fault.

i'm not saying, i'm just saying.

look who wants to stir the shit...

i saw this quote today and i'm kinda in love with it:

"If one understands that Socialism is not a “share the wealth” program but is in reality a method to consolidate and control the wealth, then the seeming paradox of super rich men promoting Socialism becomes no paradox at all. Instead it becomes logical, even the perfect tool of power-seeking megalomaniacs. Communism, or more accurately Socialism, is not a movement of the down-trodden masses but of the economic elite." - Gary Allen

sure, it sounds paraniod... or it could sound smart and logical - it's all in how you look at it.

thinking

joel mccrae had pretty feet.

preventative measures

for future reference, the way to prevent a hangover from nature's cramping and raspberry margaritas is as follows:

ovaltine and a HEB sleepytime pill -> pass-out = no hangover and great feelings in the morning.

ps - ian moore tonight will be interesting.

prediction... if

if i lived in a place that had entenmann's cream cheese coffee cake AND thin mint ice cream, i would be home right now stuffing my face - eating every last inch of both items while watching "ride the high country" and promptly having my body reject all the sugar via vomit vomit vomit. then i would set the thermostat for 65 degrees and crawl into my downy cave with a few HEB sleepytime pills.

that sounds like the happiest thing in the world right now.

thank goodness for alcohol.

blackout

living in texas, one is always on the look-out for ways to keep cool in the summer. there is a constant quest for chillows and "personal coolers", ice cream, cold beverages, cold food - anything that will keep you cooled down a little.

with all these cooling options available, i've been pretty content, with my sole gripe about the summers being sleeping in on the weekends.
during the week, i wake up before the sun tops the trees, so i don't get direct sunlight in my room (the only room in my place that has an eastern-facing window) until i've blown that joint for the day.
the weekends are another story. i relish being able to sleep in until a double-digit hour is showing on my clock, which means that the sun is coming up on full power and shining through my nice little east window. while the ac is on, the thermostat is in a room where it's significantly cooler than my room at the heat of the morning and it gets pretty uncomfortable in there, so i decided to invest in a set of blackout curtains to see if it would help with the late morning sleep-ins. while i haven't had a chance to test the late morning sleep-in part - that will be for this weekend - it has made a significant difference at night already. it's SO dark and quiet in there now that i think it's making it harder for me to get to sleep. it's kind of frustrating. well, my inherent weirdness about the whole thing is kind of frustrating. GAH!

**UPDATE: first weekend with blackout curtains = perfect! but i had a lot to help me sleep besides. hm**

frustrated

that i can't figure out how to start my blog about new mexico. i'm not one of those people that can write some of it and then add something at the top, i need a genesis for it all to flow from.

maybe hot yoga will sweat it out of me.

thinking...

i would very much like to look like diane lane when i get to be her age.

hell, i would very much like to look like her right now. dang. she's pretty.

i think i just figgered something out!

i was standing at stove this morning, making my usual breakfast, basking in a post-painting think pod.
i was wondering why it is that the painting comes so slowly and sporadically for me. why, when i can bust out some mean paper crafts or knit something like nobody's business, does the painting gloop out like molasses in the winter? why it is, to get something started with paint and a canvas, it's like breaking through a wall of jelly that's been in the fridge for too long?

then i realized: art (for me) is following your own instructions or following no instructions at all.

things like knitting and paper crafts and sewing are inherently instructional - instructions that other people have already figured out. sew a straight line to get this hem. purl, purl, knit, yarn over to get this look on a stitch, fold the paper this way to get this animal. but paint to canvas... you make your own instructions. you decide what color or shape or stroke will translate what is in your brain to what wants to come out onto the canvas.
all my life, i've been living under some kind of instruction handed out by others. i might have manipulated those instructions to get the result i wanted, but there were still "guidelines". this is totally free of that and, up until a little while ago, that seriously intimidated and crippled whatever is/was in me. hell, it still does, but now it just feels right to dive into it and swim around in that intimidation to see what it can do to me.

after careful observation, i've noted that once i break through that wall of jelly, whatever needs to come out, comes out fast and furious (ha!), but until then, i fidget and squirm and it's a weird - oddly physical - struggle to let it out. i thought i would need some licker of some kind to get me going last night, but when i couldn't get the pernod open after 10 minutes and removing the top layer of skin from my hands, i gave up on that and said, FUCK IT! I CAN DO THIS BY MYSELF! i sat there, listening to mink deville and tried to take my time (that is HARD) and it started coming out. ALL BY ITSELF. yay!

i think that, once i get comfortable with the no instruction, guideline or structure, this painting stuff is going to come out a lot faster and easier. i'm not saying it's good, but at least it'll get out. hm.

thinking...

i know i posted this big whole long rant a couple of weeks ago about "it" being all "worth it" and stuff, and while that's how i was feeling then and i definitely needed the catharsis of letting that out, i'm re-thinking and feeling differently now.

i am pretty in love with the family i've gathered throughout the years. especially due to that cuntie darling, steve. i can't believe the sheer amount and force of the creative, sweet, hilarious, talented and wonderful people that surround this guy and that i've had the honor and pleasure to meet. i hope some of it rubs off on me someday.

i think this new-found appreciation also came along when i realized that it's easier to love and appreciate this when you aren't expecting anything in return - seeing things and people and situations at face value because there are a LOT more incredibly rad people out there than we give credit for. you just hear about the shitty people more because they make "better news".

i just needed to get that out. now onto our regularly scheduled programming.

i have a feeling...

that the following words will be said at some time, by some person this weekend:

"my toe stand is a hot mess."

oddly, this makes me even more excited for the weekend.

carrot interrupted.

so, today i had what one would call a "breakdown" at work. in front of everyone. on my drive home for lunch, it turned into a "meltdown" because i started thinking on a lot of things, but mainly that i couldn't think of one valid reason that i deal with the crap i do on a daily basis. the question of the day then popped into my head:

"is it worth it?"

and then, a follow-up question that saddened me even more popped into my head:

"what is this "it" that all of this is supposed to be worth?"

i don't mean this in some deep, metaphysical, metaphorical, meditative kind of way. i mean, i want a hard, tangible answer to this question.
for some lucky bastards, their "it" is their work. i would give anything to fall into this category. for others, it's love (as dopey as it sounds), or their kids and family... money... power... glory... fame... to be "remembered" when they're gone... drugs and drink, or simply the pursuit of some or all of the things mentioned.

i don't know what my "it" is. i don't even know what category it would even vaguely fall into and that poses a problem. i don't have any of the things/feelings/situations mentioned above and i don't feel like i ever will really and that makes me feel pretty empty and, really, fucking sad as shit.

love isn't my "it". i've tried it and realized that i love takers. loving takers is draining and unfulfilling because there is literally no replenishment. of spirit. of life. of love. of reason. of anything.

my work. i do a job everyday that i'm good at but i have no passion for and i don't enjoy. i do it because it pays the bills, but just barely. it lets me maintain an existence. it doesn't help me expand or broaden an existence, it doesn't allow me new and fulfilling experiences, it doesn't challenge me and i don't grow from it. it simply sustains the meager existence i'm living now.
if i had something i was passionate about, that i loved doing, that fulfilled me and challenged me, that would be one thing - i could rationalize working a job like mine because it would allow me to do my "it".
if i had someone who lived in my town that i liked to spend time with and travel with and have experiences of any kind with, i could rationalize this job because i would be working to spend time with people i enjoy on a frequent basis.
as it is, i have nothing like that. nothing to rationalize my dealing with this shit on a day-to-day basis. and i don't have anyone who's chest i can bury my face in and vent/cry about this. i don't have anyone to stroke my hair and tell me that it's going to work out, however it's going to work out.

and it truly hit me today that i don't have an "it" for anything to be worth. or so it feels. some may say that i've got friends - which i do, great ones, that i see only 2-3 times a year, if that. is the interim 360 times that i don't see them worth it? or the times that i need someone physically right here and right now worth it? it doesn't feel like it at this point. i've pushed on alone for so long hoping that there's a reason for it and i'm so tired of trying and pushing and feeling like i'm forcing my way through my day, my week, month... whatever slice of time you want to put in there. it doesn't feel like this struggle is going to end anytime soon either.
the trouble with all this is, i don't have anything with which to remedy this situation. i feel so lost and alone right now - not in the "i'm the only one who's ever gone through this so no one can understand" kind of way, but in the "is this ever going to fucking end and why won't anyone help me out of it?!" kind of way. it feels like this rosy veil has been lifted and i'm seeing things as they really are for me and it's not pretty. i truly do live a dreary existence - wake up, swim (an inherently solo sport), work for 9 hours taking care of people who will never take care of me, yoga (another inherently solo venture), go home, eat, watch a movie and go to sleep only to do it all over again the next day. there isn't a hug in there anywhere. there isn't a smile, there isn't warmth or human touch, it just is. and i think to myself, "i work to maintain THIS???! everyday??"

i don't know where this is coming from. it's not a pity party. it just is what it is and it's pretty disheartening and depressing. everyone deserves to have a hug everyday if they want one.

my imaginary dangling carrot has disappeared. i hate this.

the devil is in the details

as is the case with memphis as i noticed while i was on my 5 hour walk of the town today.
from my hotel, it's about a half a mile through town until i get to the "developed" part of town... the peabody, peabody place, beale street, etc. until you get there though, it's a half mile of gorgeous building that are abandoned. gorgeous buildings with broken and boarded-up windows. gorgeous buildings that need just the smallest amount of attention and they can be breathtaking, beautiful, useable jewels again. then you get out of this 5 (maybe) block radius of "developed" town and it's back to dilapidated buildings, empty lots, lots of low industrial buildings, etc. no matter what part i was walking in, i was greeted with nothing but genuine cordiality, true southern hospitality. from dudes working. from people on their breaks. from people who are from here and will stay here and will persevere through whatever happens in this town.

there is a soft energy around this town that isn't perceptible unless you're looking for it. it's a town on the edge of SOMETHING but no one can tell you what. this thing that's going to happen, it's either going to be really great or really bad and everyone here is waiting for it because there's nothing you can do until you see what it's going to be. they're ready to strike whether is a good or bad thing. and because of that, i sincerely hope that it's great. if i had my way, i would LOVE to be apart of what's going to happen, if it falls to the positive, wonderful side of things.
from my extremely limited experience here, this town has 5 things going for it that i can see: fedex, this 2 block piece of corporate hell called beale street, the history, graceland and the people. the last item is really what is going to make of break this place when whatever happens, happens.
this place also has a lot to overcome - from my end alone, i know there is a MAJOR home foreclosure issue here that rivals california, florida and chicago. enough that this is one of 6 places in the country that we WON'T lend because the foreclosure scene is so prevalent. and, again from my field of knowledge, i've noticed that there aren't any credit unions here - just banks. even a federal reserve bank branch (SKEEVEY EVILNESS!). i know that seems like a little thing, but, historically, credit unions are harbingers of good and bolster local economies. they're all about keeping everything local and giving back to their communities. banks are takers and energy suckers in a lot of ways.
there is so much potential here. and potential to make it something wonderful. not something corporate, not something yuppie, not something hipster, not something "expected". this place can be magic - it's brimming at the surface, someone or something just needs to break it open.

i came here mainly because i wanted a long drive, wanted to get out of texas, but needed to be back by monday morning for work. i think i accomplished that and fell in love with the potential of a town. look who's a multi-tasker!