29 August 2011

an ode to water

this summer has been all about water.  almost every adventure has been inclusive of replenishing and healing water.  coming alive again after such a difficult transition in my life has been due, in large part, to water.  with so much water in my astrological chart, it is no wonder that my safe and healing place is in its calming depths.  my darling friends have emerged from the woodwork, unwittingly, to swoop me up and sing me songs of water.  canoes, swim suits, inner tubes, gleaming hair, and beach blankets have been the symbols of summer that have whispered to me and brought me back to life.  
thank you, friends.
thank you, water.

25 August 2011

The Right Brain Initiative Manifesto

i have been wonderfully, wonderously selected by the right brain initiative for an internship this fall.  take a peek at this video to get a little taste of what i'm in for!

Right Brain Initiative from studionumber9 on Vimeo.

23 August 2011

Natya Leela

Electricity, 1876


When I came to, in that year
of bamboo, then carbon, then
filament, I learned to make

my own light.  At night, my breasts were incandescent,

soft as white spotlighted jades.
And the school girls who knew
how to see in the dark brought me

back in their arms.  We set up our atalier in the city's

reddest section.  We plied the marquee
makers with our sugared tips, took
their likenesses with powdered flash;

some took their last names.  I just held their trembling faces.

When the men changed, grew
more famous still, we painted our faces
in an electric gold the blind could see.

And Tesla hung our brothel lights, made our copper eggs

stand on their ends - but I took Edison
to my bed.  For him, I coiled a wet-
licked curl and buried it in a bulb,

I pressed my hands together.  The city smoldered, then burned.



14 August 2011

oak trees and dry grass

last week i visited a friend's property in northern california.
i needed desperately to slow down and ruminate, and to spend quiet days in nature.
and i did.
with a faithful canine companion named johnny cassius clay.
he licked my tears, and sat under the oak trees i climbed.
he woke me every morning with his face resting in the crook of my neck and followed me faithfully on every walk.
he cocked his ears every time i took a photo, and never failed to bring me something to throw over and over again.
his needs were simple, and he never asked anything of me except to be by my side (and some scratches).
in short, he was just the companion i needed.
below is a picture chronicle of those few lovely days.



train through umpqua
the city

anderson valley
the homesteader
stick art
a cook's kitchen

cash, the rig, and ss james

navarro river