Musings

I woke up again today. I guess that's how it works. Go Life!

In other news:

My goal for October was to buy a record player so I could start buying all these ridiculous records I always see and actually be able to play them. It appears as though this goal might actually be coming into fruition this week. Better late then right? And I even purchased my very first records! I am most excited about a double disc set (probably not the right lingo..) of Moondog. He was a blind hobo basically who played on the streets of New York in the 50's....beyond ahead of his time, he dressed as a viking and composed amazing tracks of lyrics and music; I am pretty sure that having this record in my possession is the greatest incentive to get that turntable set up in my room like right now. Here's a little taste:

People Take Down Planes.

Am just getting ready to head into the the city.......puttin' on clothes, playing with hair, listening to NPR.

Brian Lehrer is one of my favorite journalists/host of radio on WNYC, I listen to him almost daily. Today he had a fabulous discussion about the current health care debate, but it was followed by a conversation with John Farmer about his new book covering the truths coming out about 9/11 and what was happening at a government and systemic level. Basically, there was no shit together and people lied about how situations were handled. Surprised? Not really, but we should know and we should react. Anyway, what really stopped me. What made me realize that I didn't need to keep touching my crazy hair and making mirror face was when he said "...Before the passengers took the plane down...." Whoa. People got together on the plane and took it down themselves to prevent a larger catastrophe that was surely inevitable. That's huge, it breaks my heart, it's beyond human and it is something I want to take with me.....forever, but especially today. Think about it and think about our potentials for destruction and for heroism. And how they can come together.......

Listen or explore more here

Also, sorry it's been almost a month since a post. Or I guess I'm not. But don't think I don't care about you or have things to share. It always comes.

My friends are Pretty

My dear friend Natasha got married this summer in a gorgeous wedding. The wedding was featured on this one random website where Natasha was noted as a "fab bride." So true. I was proud to have been a part of the ceremony and a friend of the couple when I read the blog....wanted to share with you all! Check it out, the pictures are so beautiful and classic.

I love her answers and knowing her can say they are completely honest and within character. Friends are good!

In your lips I sense a Danger....

On the previous music post I also have this to add.

Watch and Listen peoples, seriously good stuff, this song is going to be on my next DJ set, well I mean the Payola song that only lasts until 2:45 in, then it gets all montagey and stupid:



I just got the Valley Girl soundtrack in the mail, early X-mas gift I guess. Good movie, good tunes.

Thursday Thoughts...

So music. It's such an absorbing part of my being. Moving to New York so blindly and relatively isolated helped me to realize a bit more of who I am and what I have to offer. A lot of what has stood out to me is music.
It has taken being around other people and comparing taste to make me realize the role that music plays in all of our lives. I have really eclectic taste that spans so many spectrums, but everything has a time and a place. I feel blessed to have been raised with so much different music diversely around me, which not everyone has, but still many people find their own way to discover music that speaks to them.
DJing in the city has really hit home that people respond so differently to music. Some just want to hear familiar music, they approach my booth and just make blind requests, not really wanting to open themeselves to the new tracks and artists I might be exposing them to.......all I can do is ask them to be patient and try to do my best to make them happy. Others approach and ask me about artists I am playing and write it down. These are my people. They want to hear something new and different, their ears and souls are open and they learn and feel this way.

I play some weird stuff. I play crowd pleasers, I play it all. Patience. Listen.

Nothing ever sounds as good as when I am by myself in my apartment or on my headphones walking to the subway. People seem not to let music be as intimate as it should be.

Anyway, this whole post was inspired by my recent purchase of the debut Atlas Sound album. Bradly Cox is a fucking genius. See here:



Mind blown. How does music effect you? Thoughts?

Sorry Everyone...

the mom is in town. Have a lot of things to share with you, and will do so shortly. Right now my roommate is talking and I am not really listening so will be in touch soon.

I love you.

In the meantime here are a few photos I have taken for you to look at:

PG Tips Save Me

I hate how on cold grey windy days everything is so much further away.

Book.

I just, as in like a half hour ago finished a book. It is such a bittersweet feeling the finality of it all. My friend Ryan had given me Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf for my birthday this year and it took me a while to have the time to pick it up and give it it's due. The whole book takes place in one day post WWI in England. But that's beside the point, it could have been written at any time because it's just about life. We get old, we have thoughts inside our heads we never share, we have people we love, people we don't tell we love, people we pretend to love...we are sad. And we show up to parties and the whole world unravels and reveals itself. And it doesn't. The book made me feel lighter, not heavier, though much of it is not happy or otherwise; just very thoughtful and real, a day. We can think so much in one day, we can change our lives in one day; we judge in a day, we go to sleep and then that's that.

Thanks Ryan. I am happy for this. Drinking some beer, reflecting, capturing something, still not sure what, but there is some serious purpose being served. xoxo everyone. It is real.....and it is not. How do we bridge that?

Moments of Comfort..

Just a couple updates.
Saw Guitars now that they are back in NYC. Beautiful, as predicted:

Went to my friend Melissa's for dinner. Damn, it's been since I don't know when to have been fed by somebody. Home cooked chicken in fig sauce with roast veggies, amazing conversation, amazing wine, amazing people.

Brunch at the casa cooked entirely by Mark. Friends arrived, we ate eggs, pancakes, bagels, cheese, meat, bacon (not to be confused by the other meat), bellinis, bloody mary's.......My Little Pony Coloring session....um thanks mom and dad for that book.



I love this city. I love you

On Exercise

I always leave with the intention of running. The park slows me down though as I find it unreasonable to not enjoy and observe the goings on about me.
"We're looking for secret treasure" one young girl declares
"Cool, Look, Acorns!" Her friend says
And indeed they have found.
An old Russian couple pass me slowly, hand in hand.
I walk for you.

Now listen to this guy. Just bought some of his music, it's beyond real.

Taking it Down a Notch...

My darling friend Kevin who writes for this journal that comes out of his current home of Guatemala, La Cuadra,
just recently contacted me about something pretty personal that he had written and had no real outlet to share. I was more then willing to oblige as what follows is a raw and very intimate piece that I am more then happy to hold a home to. We have all been in this place, at least if we have really lived. I commend his courage and I share it with pride. I have always respected Kevin's writing and his style, we go pretty far back and the man belongs to a beyond special place in my heart, complications involved and aside. So with no more introduction necessary I offer you a piece of a friend who has a piece of me:

Even with 50 milligrams of diazepam and half bottle of scotch flowing through me I couldn't fall asleep. I just was just lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. At the neon bulb I never turn on, blurred by my intoxication. I sat up, slumped over, and spent a few minutes staring at the back of my arm. It was sprinkled with self inflicted cigarette burns, a soft slash marking the place where I had slid a carving knife through my flesh and then knocked on my neighbor Allyson's door at three in the morning, blood dripping off my elbow. I was crying, but not from anything having to do with my arm.

"Ali, I'm kind of bleeding a lot." She looked at the blood running down my arm.

"Ohmygodmyohmygodmyohmygod" was all she could say. She ran back into her room for a towel to clean me up before leading me to my room.

"I'm fine now," I kept blubbering. "Don't worry, I'm fine."

"I'm not leaving until you fall asleep," she told me. "Hang on, I'm going to get a pillow."

When she came back she found me with another knife, repeatedly slashing deeper through the same wound. I looked up at her. "Really, Ali, I'm alright."

"Jesus!" She took the blade away and cleaned my arm again. "Get undressed. Get under the covers."

It wasn't a suicide attempt. Had it been, I simply would have turned my arm over before cutting into it. When I woke up it was daylight and she was gone. I looked at my arm. It wasn't even that bad of a cut. It only bled so much because my blood-alcohol level was up up around 47 percent or so. I just wanted to see myself bleed, to feel myself hurt in a way that had nothing to do with emotion; I wanted someone else to see my blood and recognize the seriousness of my mental state, drunken though it may have been. I wanted to feel alive, not deliver my myself unto death.

When Katie left, after I broke up with her, we were still on good terms. We still are today. There was no anger or remorse to temper my sadness, and my guilt only compounded my grief. But when first she vanished from my life there was an extreme sense of freedom to offset any other emotion meandering around my mind. No longer was I subject to the will of another. I had only to answer to myself. Wanna go get shit-faced drunk at one O-clock on a Monday afternoon? Go for it! Wanna blow lines until well passed sun-up on a Thursday? Why not? There's no one to be upset when you stumble into your room and completely miss the toilet with a stream of dark yellow ultra-dehydrated tequila urine. So do as you like.

Of course the sadness was there, lingering beneath my sense of emancipation. Two and a half years of waking up with the same beautiful girl beside me, two and half years of hearing "I love you" every day from someone whom I truly loved in return. It's a difficult thing to quit cold turkey. But the liberty! To be able to walk into the bar and flirt, really flirt, with any girl who happened to be around.... Not that I was all that successful. Hitting on chicks, it turns out, is not like riding a bike. Plus the fact that I was so desperate to fuck anyone new, anyone I hadn't been with before, turned out to be something of a hindrance. Few women find alcohol fueled desperation becoming.

And so, day by day, the fresh-meat salivation of newly found independence was usurped by the cloying carrion-stench of loneliness.

I began to spend more of my free time lying fetal on my bed with the shades drawn and the lights off, fixating on memories of Katie. The day after I broke up with her, but two weeks before her flight, (it was a very bizarre period during which we still lived together but the end of our relationship was pre-determined down to the exact hour) she was lying with her head on my chest, blond hair spread across my abdomen like spun silk. "I feel like this ruins everything," she said. There were tears in her eyes. "Why?" she kept asking, "I just don't understand why."

I had answers, and at the time I believed them. Her NGO job in Guatemala was over. She wasn't doing anything and she wasn't happy. She was running out of money. And then there was the one answer I really believed, the one I still believe, the one I told her over and over, the one she repeatedly denied: I thought she deserved someone better than a drunk bartender with no education, no marketable skills, and absolutely no plans for the future.

I had other answers too. Ones I didn't share. For years before we met we had several mutual friends, and for months I had heard her referred to as 'Horace's promiscuous room mate'. I had no real concept of the extant of her previous licentiousness, and often attempted to convince myself that it was merely normal college sexuality, but I was tortured by thoughts of her past lovers. Men with bigger dicks than mine violating her every colligate orifice. Threesomes, foursomes, orgies, public fucking, blowing strangers in barroom bathrooms. At my weakest moments I was certain that she had experienced all this and more. I couldn't help comparing what I assumed of her previous life to my relatively ,I felt, limited experience. It infuriated me. Now I'm not sure why.

She had a habit, while drunk, of occasionally telling stories that called her own morality into question: "I was at this party, and I was making out with this chick because, you know, it was a party." It was not the narration that bothered me, but my drunk friends and aquantences sitting around her listening. To me it seemed like the kind of thing slutty girls do to get attention when they know they have nothing legitimately interesting to offer. I would loll in my own intoxication and observe, brooding. Fucking whore, I would think. You goddamn worthless fucking whore. In retrospect I realize it only bothered me because I knew she had so much to offer that didn't hinge on her past sexual experience. But every time it happened I wanted to break up with her then and there. Instead I would leave the room, or the party, or the bar. Go home alone and lie awake, certain that in my absence she had left with one of the rabble. Was in bed with some asshole, on top of him, grinding against him, kissing him.

Though as far as I know that never happened.

Of course the reality of her life before our relationship probably amounted to little more than banal human experience, but in my mind I embellished what little information I had and built from it a portrait of her not just unpleasant, but unendurable. I told myself that I wanted her gone. Now she is. And lieing on my damp pillow, arms around my knees, tears in my eyes and snot on my face, I realize that I lied to myself. The flood of good memories so dwarfs the smattering of bad that there can be no other explanation.

And there are so many good memories. I still lie awake sometimes and think of her standing in our room, a towel wrapped around her chest, her skin still damp and cool from the shower. I pulled her close to where I sat on the edge of the bed, gently pulled the towel from her body and let it drop to the floor. I kissed her stomach. Let my tongue linger briefly in her navel. Kissed her thigh. Brushed my lips across her chest just beneath her breasts. She smiled and pushed me away.

"I Just got all clean!" She said, smile still splashed across her lips.

"I know," I answered. "And it makes me want to make you so dirty." She paused, watching me grin up at her.

"Oh fuck, that's hot," she answered. And she let me pull her into bed. We fell in upon ourselves, into each others eyes and mouths, each pulling the other closer as if trying to fuse into a single organism as I was drawn inexorably toward her center by a force indistinguishable from need. From hunger or thirst. From survival.

I remember her weaving down the sidewalk, on the way home from No Se, walking behind her and giggling as she tried to put one foot in front of the other while repeatedly bouncing off of houses and cars, until, afraid she would fall, I hurried up beside her and looped an arm around her waist. She let her head drop onto my shoulder as I talked to her to keep her conscious. "Did you have fun?" "Heumphh," she said. She was (and is, I suspect) a klutzy drunk, always adorned with fresh bruises in the morning.

I remember walking with her through the streets of Boston's north quarter. We had just spent all day wandering through thrift stores and then taken the train up for an Italian dinner and too much wine. On the way back to the T-stop a kid in a Red Sox jersey passed us walking the opposite way. "Hey!" I said. "We had sex in a park last night!" He looked back and smiled. "That's cool!" He said, and kept walking.

And so much more. I remember swimming in Lake Washington when we lived in Seattle. Sailing with her family on the Chesapeake Bay. Walking along Puget Sound in Discovery Park and shouting to her "Look Katy-did! A water dog!" when a quizzical sea lion popped its head up 20 feet off shore. I remember making love on a big flat rock on a small island in a river in Costa Rica. All of it. Everything. On and on and on, an endless supply of happy reminiscences.

Only now, in her absence, can I freely compare the good with the bad. Can I admit to myself that which I could never admit before, either to her or to myself. Only now am I truly cognizant of the deeper reasons that I broke up with Katie. It was simple cowardice and lust. I was too chicken shit to commit to a real relationship and I wanted to fuck other girls.

So I'm left in a cold and empty bed with nothing. Nothing but too much drink, too many drugs, and a scarred arm to remind me of my own stupidity. Bare shelves where make-up used to be. A few chick movies still floating around in my collection of shitty market boot-legs. Nothing except darkness and a perpetual question floating around the room to settle still born in my mind: have I made a horrible mistake? Have I taken the best thing to ever enter my life and thrown it away?

What have I done?

Feel free to share or comment on your thoughts of this piece. I hope that all of you find this blog to be a place that you are able to send any submissions at any time and I can only help to offer a space that we can all share our lives and thoughts with each other. xoxo. Poppy.

The Current New Yorker Cover

Is brilliant! There are three covers that open into each other and it's amazing commentary about the economy for their "Money Issue." I like to let the artists speak for themselves though so click here to learn more about it from eat me daily including a fun little video about putting the cover together. I didn't get around to reading the issue yet, but am so overjoyed at the playfulness of this cover, it's got smarts.

Currently Listening to..

....this album non-stop. Fucking awesome.

To The Curiosity In Us All...Do it for Studs!

It is October. Seriously? Yes.

I am taking this moment, this month, maybe the rest of my life to honor a fairly recent discovery. His name is Studs Terkel and he is a pioneer and a true hero of American Journalism. He died last October at the age of 96 and never stopped trying to share the voice of the real America. The hard working people who have immense worth and stories to tell, but it takes people like Studs to get these stories out there. He is beyond an inspiration to me right now, encapsulating my new found respect and love for my country a la Steinbeck, Ferlinghetti, and now...Terkel. A while back I was listening to NPR and they played some of his interviews with survivors of the Depression; I was moved like I ain't been in a long long time. I picked up his book Hard Times yesterday which goes more in depth with the era and the people who lived through it as well as Studs process of documenting these stories. I've only read the foreward and feel honored and like I'm doing my job as a human by exploring this piece of work further. Studs, this month is for you. For the people who just want to count and your beautiful way of letting them know that they do. Serious tip of the hat.

Please, if you have some time, you can listen to the Depression Era Interviews and understand a little more about where our country came from, it's amazing how much has changed. Frightening actuallly.

Guys, I think I found a Grandpa. But he's dead too.



1912-2008 Thanks Dude.

Cool It Now

Walking to the grocery store this morning to buy some milk for my tea. The sun was shining down on me and it felt warm, but the air was chilly and the sky ahead of me was a blanket of grey, which makes for a beautiful contrast but warns of the winter making its way towards the city. While the sun is still with us though, I take the moments I can to feel it on my face and body, which is a feeling best shared with my bike "free spirit"as we ride through the park together. Lately music has been an even more driving force in my life then usual (which is a lot). Making mixes and discovering new artists, sharing music with my loved ones or just laying in bed listening quietly and in solitude. This and wearing leaves and twigs in my hair. I was riding said bike through said park and this song came on my I-Pod. I stood up and pedaled hard to get that cool wind over me, it was truly a magnificent moment in my life.



Enjoy the song! Electrelane is a pretty awesome group, though no longer playing. This song is from the album No Shout, No Calls which is a definite must have as far as I'm concerned.

Who's With Me?

I am leaving the Guitars post below here up for a while- on purpose. I just feel like people need some time to really check this music out. Listen to this album, read what Shanna and Kenric have to say. Comment on the post, actually connect with it. Do something, say something. Restore my faith in mankind. Who are you, do you even care? Just feeling a little disappointed in human beings lately. This too shall pass, but in the mean time...help a sister out. Bridge the fucking gap people, we're all here together.

Share Time with Guitars

This is my friend Shanna and one piece of the puzzle that is the sexiest couple I know. She is also in this band with her husband Kenric called Guitars (if you don't click that you're an idiot). They make the kind of music that can change your life. I have a lot of talented friends and many play in bands that I am impressed by. But a while back, whilst watching this band perform, I could not stop, and had no desire to, tears falling down my face. As they leave their current home of upstate New York and country living to hit the road for a tour, you now too have the opportunity to see them play and be touched. I had some questions for Shanna before she left. She had some answers. It went a little something like this:

Me: Whenever I find myself talking about your music with people they always want to know "what kind of music is it?" I wonder how you answer them and if the question itself bothers you, the fact that it's so important for people to have a genre to put music into?

Shanna: Yes sometimes it's bothersome. But people like categories so whaddya gonna do? Genres can be useful as shorthand for the histories and artists that influence us. We came up with a few of our own like "minstrel rock" and "pagan gospel." Many times I just say : "We really like Fleetwood Mac."

Me: Making music with your husband must be a beautiful thing. How does your relationship effect the music you create considering you are both a part of the whole creative process together?

Shanna: It's almost impossible to play music together when things aren't good between us. We have to keep things clear for the musical energy to flow. The upswing is that we get to have a lot of fun together and we have a good reason to put aside petty bs. On the other hand, the repercussions of being musically selfish or egotistical are pretty damaging. I think the most important thing is that the audience gets to see two people that are very accessible to each other performing together, which is not that common.

Me: Is it hard sometimes to not be in Guitars mode and just be newlyweds?

Shana: No.

Me: Quitting work, leaving your apartment and making that commitment to your music must have been intimidating. What can you say about taking that leap for your art? Do you think it's something you could have done alone?

Shanna: hmmm. well I mean I had a vision during an ayahuasca ceremony that told me to get out of the city, be alone with my husband and make music. That being said yes it was hard hard hard-but I didn't feel like there was any other choice. So whatever had to be done in order to do that just had to be done. I mean I hate to make it sound like I was following orders or something and there was no freewill involved-that's not the case. If anything things just become clear like "this is important" and "this is not" But if I start talking plant medicine...that's a whole separate interview...
Kenric: What's really hard is sitting on a great thing that needs to be shared or wasting a once in a lifetime opportunity. Right now I feel like there is always enough energy available to do what needs to get done. Especially if there is good coffee around. We're getting all that we really need.

Me: What's been the best part about leaving the city? What do you miss most?

Shanna: Silence. clean air. stars. mountains. streams. SPACE! SPACE! SPACE! I miss the friends that I have in the city. people basically and the good things that come along with a ba jillion people gathered together in a pretty small space...that's also what I don't miss. sigh.
Kenric: The people of NYC are super inspiring. However, there is a lot of static and competitiveness that can limit your perception. When I'm looking at mountains or a huge blue sky I know why I want to play music.

Me: You guys are taking a pretty grassroots approach to your upcoming tour, have you found a lot of support from people while putting it all together? What have been some major obstacles?

Shanna: At this point I'd say we're actually a step below grassroots-ha! We're aiming for cultivating a real grass roots fan base. Right now it's do whatever we can d.i.y. pay your dues touring. And basically we're learning as we go. It's hard spending a million hours on the internet contacting everyone and their mother and trying to be both aggressive and gracious. We have found other musicians along the way who are genuine about liking the music and have helped us with shows. But it's a lot of basically "hey I know you've never heard of us but we're serious and our music is good and we'll play anywhere at any time because we just want to play music!" Basically it's working your ass off and luck.

Me: I find your music to be pretty damn spiritual. What do you hope people take from listening to your album and seeing you play?

Kenric: We are Living.
Shanna: Recently we went to visit a Mahayana Buddhist temple. It was crazy because they were renovating it and there were ladders and paint buckets everywhere and a sassy little nun who was yelling at us-I mean as much as a Buddhist nun yells. Anyway I got a fortune scroll and it said " You will change your whole nation's view and build a spaceship for its crew".

Me: Does it feel pretty awesome to be a chick in front of a microphone? It's so many girls fantasy, I can imagine it's pretty empowering.

Shanna: Singing in front of people has always been utterly terrifying to me. Like paralyzing. When I sing in the band I try to think of it as an offering and remember that humans have been making music from time immemorial. It makes it easier. So when I do all that and get past the fear-it's thrilling and awesome and yes I am living out a bit of the fantasy of that 9 year old girl who use to sing Reba and Madonna in her bedroom...

Me: How much thought do you guys have to put into Guitars' image? Are you aware of how the public is going to perceive you or do you try to leave that out completely. I can imagine it's a frustrating reality for musicians to deal with, I am curious if you guys have had to discuss this.

Kenric: I see having an "image" positively. It's an opportunity to be creative.
Shanna: Yeah we enjoy playing with aesthetics-it's fun! When we make something like album art or take a photo it's a way to play with other media.

Me: What's your favorite song to sing, why?

Kenric: Singing the Gospel of Mama is pretty fun for me. That's as naked as I can be.
Shanna: Sometmes when we sing Big Black Hole I feel somewhat possessed.

Me: Who's going to look after the goats while you're on tour?

Shanna: Bruce-the Swami. They're his goats after all.

I'm a fan of anything that ends with goats.

More Guitar Pics:

The link above will allow you to stream their WHOLE ALBUM! Listen to it, then go to their MySpace so you can find out where and when to see them play. Support people, this is how it happens.

When Your Sister Comes to Town...

You do stuff like this.
Get tattoos. pounds, lesbian bi, basic life support. Yeah, yeah, make jokes but it's lil'bigsis and big lil' sis. And they are the cutest thing eva. PEHFEKT!
Synchronized tattoo healing at the CornerShop. Keep the arms straight!
Glass cleaning from foot. Thanks Mark. Not the first time, probably not the last.
Saget.
Brownstones are cool I guess, but what about this vest? Wins that contest, easy.
We make fun of people who obviously speak English as a second language. We're going to hell in the best possible way. Shacks.
Visit Melissa at that one bar where we drank free Budweiser! Thanks homegirl.
Eat at the best restaurant in the world. It was Mexican Independence Day so we had to drink Mezcal with Arturo.......we had to!
Yay Chavellas.
Get attacked by killer mutant New York mosquitos in my back yard. Seriously, Ailsa has like 24 bites and looks like a leper.
Take pictures of Family Guy on tv? yes, we do that.
Deer ear. Fawn ear. leaf.
Sister love. awesome!

Sister, Sister

ummm. I guess i missed you. Yay. Brooklyn pics, first night. Patrick RIP. Seriously, these pics are all taken listening to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack that I just purchased. Patrick......nooooo!!!!!

RIP

Right now this is all that matters.



Goodbye.

It Feels Like Christmas

Because I get a present today.

My little sister is flying into New York to visit me. I cannot wait to share this town with her and share our time with you. Family rules.

Just In Case...

You were wondering if I'm still around, I am. Apparently September is supposed to be a difficult month for everyone cosmologically speaking, especially regarding matters of communication so there you go. So far, my September has been pretty good. I just got back to the city after a trip to California, where the weather in Santa Barbara was unreal in its perfection. It's cold and rainy here in New York, making my bed feel that much more comfortable and difficult to get out of. I have to bartend tonight which makes me want to upchuck, but am trying to rally cause I need the dough. Seriously. I just transferred more money into my account so that I can go buy this shirt at my favorite neighborhood vintage store 1 of a Find. Sorry mom, but I'm doing it. Irresponsible I know. But the shirt includes suede, turquoise, and snakeskin so I don't really have a choice. No brainer.

I will share it with you all when the time cometh. Until then, this is my song for today, a good staying in bed until the last minute song:

Something you Might not Know....

is that I love this shit.

Happy September. Remember Mercury goes into Retrograde in September so expect some communication issues and difficulties.

An Interesting Time...

..For all of us.

I have noticed more now then any other time I can remember in my life everybody around me being in a place of transition and the unknown, regardless of generation, income, etc. Almost all the conversations I've been having with friends and family are revolved around being unsure about where they are and what they want and how to forge ahead. I'm right there with you all too. It is such an unfortunate circumstance that money is also a huge part of this situation as it just fucking is and it sucks. While everyone is handling their individual circumstances very differently and all deserve to be doing so I cannot help but seek comfort in the fact that none of us know what the hell is going to happen tomorrow or today or next week and we're all in it together; so do what I can to listen to myself and others and try to put warm and loving energy out there. And I bitch too, which is fine.

But I am proud to say that I am okay with it all, let some shit fall apart, move forward, scale down, humble your self. Rock something out. I'll do whatever I have to, but I will do.

It's always going to be okay. Even when it's not.

Just started reading Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, homegirl can write.

Life's too short to not share these with you:



I'm here for any of you, it's been a fascinating time talking to you all about what's going on....Something in the Universe is exercising some serious demons and we're all in on the ride. Poop on it's head. xoxo Poppy

That Magic Moment

Today I felt kind of weird. I had a lot on my mind and was feeling pretty isolated in my thoughts. I wasn't sad or upset at all, in fact I had a beautiful walk through the park and was pretty damn happy. It was just a solitary day and I was totally fine with that.

Laid in bed, read, wrote, did nothing and then I had to get ready for work. I decided I needed some music to suit my mood and was having a really hard time finding it.

The thing about music is that each and every song is it's own being and is neither really good or bad, but can be perfect for different moments. The art of music is finding the right song for the right time. My strange mood made this journey particularly challenging and I struggled until I decided..........Joy Division. And that was it.

One particular song seemed to become my song that I dedicated my Monday to: No Love Lost.

Here's to Monday, August 25 2009. There will never be another one again and I pay homage to my mood and my day. All the footage is from the movie about Ian Curtis and Joy Division called "Control," which I saw and was alright with.



xoxo Poppy Sunshine

Heroes

An actual 1945 publication copy of the book. It's one of the most beautiful things I've ever laid eyes on.

I don't know if any of you remember, but I remember telling many of you that the Road Trip I recently returned from was indeed partially inspired by the book "Travels with Charley" by John Steinbeck (also from when I was reading "Dark Star: The oral biography of Jerry Garcia" and its references to the Merry Pranksters). Anyway, back to the point.

John Steinbeck is my new hero. Sitting in my all time top five authors, he is creeping his way up and possibly sitting at number one right now because I just finished "Cannery Row" and am overwhelmed with his grace in capturing human beauty. I cried twice when reading it and on my way to work finished it on the Subway. On my way home that night I opened it back up and started over from the beginning. That's a rarity for me.

One character in the book I found myself really identifying with (or at least hoping to), though she is only written about for one brief chapter is Mary Talbot. Of her he says this:

"...she seemed never to touch the ground when she walked. When she was excited, and she was excited a good deal of the time, her face was flushed with gold. Her great-great-great-great-great grandmother had been burned a witch."

"In the afternoons when Tom was at work Mary sometimes gave tea parties for the neighborhood cats. She set a footstool with doll cups and saucers. She gathered the cats, and there were plenty of them, and then she held long and detailed conversations with them...it concealed from Mary the fact that the Talbots didn't have any money. They were pretty near absolute bottom most of the time, and when they really scraped, Mary managed to give some kind of party. She could do that. She used her gift as a weapon against the despondency that lurked always around outside the house waiting to get in at Tom."

"Tom said, 'Why don't we face it for once? We're down. We're going under. What's the good kidding ourselves?' 'No we're not', said Mary. 'We're magic people. We always have been.'"

And we are indeed.

This book has a character for everybody too, Doc is super dreamy to me, especially when he actually orders the Beer Milkshake- anybody would fall in love with him at that point. Oh, you don't know what I'm talking about? Why don't you find out.

What's a book that has really effected you (or is it affected, god damn grammar)? Please share!

I Saved Lives

My first ever kind of DJ gig last night went awesome. I felt pretty appreciated for my taste. Although I will say a bunch of dudes running a dive bar took one look at me and didn't expect what I gave them. Guys, I can hang. Just saying.

My favorite transition of the night was this:



to this:

Ummmmm.....I hate it when you can't use the embed option and I am too lazy to try and navigate around the system or explore other options so just click on link and see what I transitioned too, not as cool as I intended the process to be, but still should get the point across.

It was a good time for all, they asked me back!

Kind of Like Riding a Bike

Guess what I did today (other than go to work..)? (Did I use the right than or is it then......fuck)

I went to a CD store. Seriously, it's a skill and I have lost it. I spent my youth in CD stores and it's been sooooo long that when I first went in I had to re-teach myself how to just relax and browse and navigate the groupings and classings.

Then I was in heaven. I went to Other Music in NOHO/East Villageish and they had such an interesting set up for such a small store, a little bit pretentious with the classifications (some sections had hardly any labeling and some were titled "then" or "now" for certain time periods or "in" or "out", which I still don't understand), but still, it was soul satisfying to just hear the sound of flipping through CD's again. Need more of it and intend on making that happen. It was a bummer that I went there for specific things and they didn't have them, but maybe that's my problem.......(No Danzig though?) Maybe not.

I purchased some old stuff that I know well and needed again as well as some new stuff that I need to explore as well as some stuff that I have no idea what the hell it is....and I think I love it all from what I've been hearing. Came home from work, cleaned the city sweat off of me, poured a cold beer in a frozen glass (heaven) and started a private music party.

I bought:

-Grace Jones' new album Hurricane
-Velvet Underground's Warhol album
-B.Boys Ill Communications
-some album called The Sound of Wonder- the first wave of plugged in pop at the pakistani picture house, music from Pakistan movies in the 60's......how could you say no. really.

So, the Pakistani album is amazing and has a lot of songs by this guy, M. Ashraf and I am in love:


Wicked Bass Line.

I'll let you all know how the "DJ" event goes tomorrow. I am just excited that I found out my darling Mai will be there, friend for life recent Seattle to New York transplant. She gets the shout outs from the bottom of my heart.

Is it bad of me that I am mainly concerned about my outfit?

And Our Love It Grows........

The blog must go on.

I am back in New York. I love it here. Riding my bicycle through Brooklyn, my hair sticks to my face, to my back, to my neck, it's hot. It's awesome, I wish I could bring you all with me.

I hope you'll all stick around, I have a lot to share with you and I hope you will share with me too.

Right now I really like this album/band/song. It kind of amazes me all the time when I hear it.



Today is the best day ever. I love your face. All of it. Also please note buttons on dress: Gary Numan and The Guitars. Do yourself a favor and listen.

Also, you can expect to hear some of both on Friday night if you're in NYC as I am lazily being an I-Pod DJ at this place. Come dance with me!

xoxo Poppy poop shoot Sunshine

But Under My Feet Babe....

..The Grass Is Growing. It's time to move on. It's time to get going.

Going back to New York. Here's some photos.

I present to you. Seattle:






































Bug Says:
in this life, faries find one another, like sisters and drops of water :)

Rosebud Says:
Freedom is blooming. We made it grow and blossom. It's time to carry it with us. Stone fruits, bare breasts, my lucky ass. I want to lick up this luck- this freedom, and keep it in my belly forever. I choose to not digest it. I will harbor this forever. I am stoned, bare, lucky.

Dandelion Dame Says:
Passed to the right, and that is me. It isn't a closed chapter, for the journey continues on. The book does not end on this page; There is no need. Womanhood. Laughter. Love. Being Free. Being Me. Being Us. Drinking Wine. Music, sky, clouds, trees, earth, tears, and cigarettes. Why not? Life is too short. Do what you want and be true to your heart. Always. Cry when you wanna cry, laugh when you wanna laugh and never go against your true spirit.

Poppy Sunshine Says:
Mick St. Pierre. Her keys have been handed in. The ride is over, though in many ways it has only just begun. My friends. Sharing this trip with you has been a moment, the kind that is wordless and has no way of communication except for the way my heart feels. Meeting any and all of you has restored my faith in people, my faith in myself, my faith. Just keep trucking y'all. Get your asses free. Get naked. Run. Poop. Fart. Roll the motha fucking windows down. Listen to Jerry. Listen to Jim. Listen to yourself and do it. Rock and Roll...........Road Warriors, riding free forever.