Thursday, October 28, 2010

Yarn bombing -- I've seen the book about it, but I hadn't seen it yet in real life -- art school realness, hitting the neighborhood for sure...


Pain and glamour, oh my...

The air

The air is incredible today -- cool and fresh and as soon as I get on the fire escape my head clears, wow I love this. The birds I can’t see are chirping again, even more this time and it gives me that childlike excitement that I love and then for some reason the seagulls start squawking and flying in a circle, more and more and if there’s something I will miss about San Francisco it’s this view, the light on the buildings and all these decaying rooftops, hills and mountains and highway in the distance and so much calm.

Or maybe I won’t miss this view, it’ll just be different. Very different. I guess that’s what I’m looking for. Yesterday I was looking through old photos, and I found a roll from this public art-making party I threw in the ruins of the demolished laundromat next door to my old apartment, all these big wheatpastes I did on the walls like the one of me sucking cock that says IT’S ALL ABOUT GLAMOUR and I remember being disappointed that more people didn’t show up, but here in the pictures it looks amazing, we’re wandering around in the ruins, creating our own ruins and looking at these pictures reminded me of how I felt when I moved back to San Francisco and it just felt like there were so many more options for flamboyance and excitement and public engagement and queer dreams and now I don’t feel that at all. Of course then I was fleeing New York and the clampdown of consumer culture and career on everything, here it was going in the same direction but 10 years behind, so much more felt possible and maybe part of that was just that I got away. But also what San Francisco meant to me and it doesn’t mean that anymore. Maybe it’ll mean that again, but I can hardly imagine feeling that excitement here now. I’m not sure how much of this is just that I’m so weighed down by exhaustion that those moments of energy just feel like mania that will fade momentarily, and how much is that I’m weighed down by San Francisco and the failure of pretty much everything I wanted here. I know that when I leave something clears, but now I’m not just leaving to go on a book tour, I’m leaving. I’m ready, and I’m not ready. I’m ready. Maybe not when the air feels so clear and I can listen to the birds, but I know I’ll be able to do that in Santa Fe. And hopefully I’ll be able to dream more too.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Goodbye, my dear sea lions...


Thoughts on Democracy Now

What could be a better going-away present than an appearance on Democracy Now? And, not just that, but in conversation with Lieutenant Dan Choi, about one of my favorite topics! And, after writing a scathing critique about Dan Choi’s repeated appearances on the program without critical engagement. It does give me hope that Democracy Now actually responded to the critique, and brought me on the show -- and I loved it! Of course I’m ready for more…

I., and so many other radical queers with anti-assimilationist critiques, have spent years and years trying to inject some sense into the national debates on the issues that are draining all the resources out of the struggles, politics, communities and imaginations that mean something to us. Of course I’m talking about marriage, gays in the military, hate crimes legislation, ordination into the priesthood and the other obsessions of the gay establishment. I was excited to join the conversation on Democracy Now, a program I listen to pretty much every day, and it’s also super-exciting to get so much supportive feedback from people all over the country and the world -- straight, queer, old, young (and I’m sure all sorts of other variations that I’m not aware of just by reading the emails). For far too long the straight left has embraced the conservative agenda of the gay establishment as if this represents a wonderful gesture of inclusion, failing to notice that strengthening institutions like the military, state-sanctioned marriage, the criminal legal system (through hate crimes legislation), and the Church actually harms struggles for social justice. I hope this segment can enable more radical queer critiques in local, national, and international arenas. To more and more and more!

Monday, October 25, 2010

But then there's my body down here

So many birds chirping today, where are all these birds? I’m out on the fire escape in the soft sun, the sun that happens after rain, the best kind of sun because you know what it means. I’m listening to these birds, chirping like spring but it’s fall and I love this time of year, although where are all these birds? I think these are the type that hang out at the top of a tree with lush foliage, maybe a -- wait, I forgot what those trees are called, the trees from Ralowe’s childhood so she’s the one who told me the name -- but anyway there are all these tiny birds and you can hear them but no matter how much you look you can’t find them in the tree, or maybe you can find them but I can’t, a tree downtown where there are very few, like here, and that makes these birds even better.

A crow lands at the top of the fire escape on the roof of the building next door, a beautiful black crow -- are crows always black? Maybe it’s redundant to say a black crow, but I love birds, that’s what I’m thinking. Going back into my apartment I think wow, I actually feel pretty good today, and then I call Randy on the phone and it’s right in the first word I start to say, somewhere in the middle of that word where I realize oh no, I’m exhausted. It’s not about that word, just about speaking and when you start at the beginning of the day I mean when I start and then suddenly I realize oh, all that energy was in my head, where it usually is, but then there’s my body down here and the way the sinus headache sinks in but still I’ll think about these chirping birds, the black crow, even if it’s redundant, I’ll think about whether there are enough cloudy days in Santa Fe, cloudy days to make the sun mean what I want it to mean and not just something beating down, help, I’m pretty sure I’ll like the winter, I love snow, but first I’ll go on a walk, here in San Francisco, I’ll go on a walk in the sun and hope that this headache doesn’t get worse.

Okay, sometimes I do like shade...

Goodbye, bookshelf...

Sunday, October 24, 2010

A one-question interview with Sassafras Lowrey

Mattilda: You recently edited Kicked Out, an anthology of stories by current and formerly homeless queer youth (including yourself) -- one of the dominant themes in the book involves the chosen families that youth create in order to challenge, undo, and survive the violence of birth families and the trauma of living in a world that often wants queer youth to die or disappear. I’m wondering if you think that the current focus on marriage within national gay organizations detracts from funding for queer youth services, and also perpetuates the vulnerability of chosen families.

Sassafras: I’m horrified by the way in which we as a community have shifted to being very single issue focused, and that single issue is marriage. I get frustrated when I look at the millions of dollars that our community has pumped into state after state in losing battles. Every time I hear about the financial cost of fighting for marriage, I think of how many beds that would buy in shelters for homeless queer youth, and quite frankly hw many lives we could have saved by allocating our priorities and resources differently. 40% of homeless youth in the United States identify as LGBTQ, this is an epidemic our community cannot afford to ignore.

On a theoretical level there is the argument that approving gay marriage will make mainstream cultural more friendly to queer youth. But that only works abstractly, and doesn’t address the immediate needs faced by our kids this minute. I challenge anyone in the community to go have a conversation with a homeless queer youth and come back and tell me we need marriage more than they need food, shelter, or just a supportive ear to listen.

As queer folks we have a powerful legacy of building our own families and knowing that family oftentimes has zero connection to blood connection. On a very personal level without created family I wouldn’t be here, and neither would most of the other people who shared pieces of their stories within the Kicked Out anthology. For current and former homeless LGBTQ youth, created families are often a lifeline to survival.

I worry that with our push for marriage, that we will lose sight of one of our most important skills – building family. Our queer families do not need government recognition to be real. I don’t think there is anything I can say that will cause the gay rights movement to suddenly wake up and stop fighting for marriage, my only hope is that we can raise other issues like LGBTQ youth homelessness to equal levels of outcry and support.

(And, in case you're curious about the discussion on this post over at the bilerico project, you can view the comments here -- be prepared, some are interesting, and some are, um... "interesting.")

Gorgeous!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Watch out -- I'll be on Democracy Now tomorrow!!!!

And, yes yes -- I'll be on with Lieut. Dan Choi -- get ready for glamour (and, wish me luck!!!)

Check it out on your local TV or radio station, or by podcast from the site...

Exhaustion

Exhaustion can be so exhausting. Really: what could be more exhausting? I’m exhausted just looking at the word: exhaustion. Wait -- I was exhausted before, but then I got even more exhausted thinking about it. Did you hear that? Even thinking about exhaustion is exhausting.

Outside. Yes, outside. This is outside: allergies and exhaustion. Should I walk one more block? Too exhausting. I’ll turn around. Even the view, nothing seems pretty about the view today, my eyes hurt. It’s tiring to look that far, my vision is blurry, do I need new contacts, I already got new contacts, they hurt my eyes. There’s that annoying person who I used to think was hot until he started scowling at me, I’m not even going to look in his direction, just to show him how much I don’t care, or maybe I’ll look at him at the very last moment, oh there he is staring at me, or maybe he’s staring at my hat. I hate walks like this that just make me feel worse, and then I get back to my apartment for more exhaustion. Why is it sunny again? It hurts my eyes. Just thinking about it is exhausting. I already told you that. You’re still thinking about it. So am I. I’m sick of thinking about it. I can’t think about anything else right now. It just makes me exhausted.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Fresh

My sinuses are so much worse today, maybe that’s the problem. No, the problem is the interrupted sleep, it’s getting worse and for a few days I still felt kind of okay, I mean when I didn’t feel horrible, but now I just feel horrible. I wonder if it’s the humidity, if that relates -- is it humid out today? Let me check. 45%. Not insane, but way more humid than yesterday or the day before. Anyway, today I have an appointment with a naturopath, but I feel so awful that I don’t want to go. It’s all the way in Noe Valley, and I have to get there in this sweaty weather with a horrible headache and no energy at all. Then we’ll talk for two hours and I’ll get wired but when we’re done I’ll feel so so drained. And then I have to get home, which takes so fucking long from Noe Valley.

I guess this is worse than feeling like I’m in a cave, because I feel like I’m in a cave, but then I look outside and oh, the sun. Ouch. My eyes hurt. Where did this headache come from, I guess that’s what this is, this headache. And then I’m so exhausted that I want to get back in bed, except I already got back in bed, and it didn’t help, and neither did that tiny bit of flax oil I put on my food, just to see if I could digest it, but I can’t. Now I just feel sad. I guess I felt sad before. I still feel sad, waiting for my laundry before I go out for a walk in the headache sun.

I did like the naturopath -- he had some interesting ideas. I only got a glimpse of those ideas, since our time was up, but I guess I’ll get the rest during our follow-up. He’s not sure that the parasites are causing the bloating. I think he is going to prioritize my chemical sensitivities. Isn’t it annoying when you want to get back in bed, but actually you have to eat more, but you don’t want to get back in bed right after you’ve eaten? The laundry isn’t arriving, the laundry from the place that supposedly doesn’t use chemicals but then somehow it always smells like chemicals. Or maybe that’s my chemical sensitivity. I mean I know that’s my chemical sensitivity, but the laundry also smells like chemicals. Anyway, it’s not here yet.

I’m at the sad part. Dismantling this home that has sheltered me. Maybe that’s why I saved this part for last -- everything on the walls, the plants. Like the huge philodendron that took over a whole wall in the kitchen, curled around another wall, now it’s gone, or gone from here, ready to grow in a friend’s garden and I’m glad about that. Or the wall of books -- now it’s a blank wall, seems so strange without all those books to look at, the colors of their spines. Or my laminated art covering the walls, now I just see the remnants of duct tape, plaster peeled from the walls.

But then here I am a few days later, getting back to this writing and something has already shifted. I feel clearer. Maybe it’s the oregano oil I’m taking for parasites, which burns my throat and causes more bloating in the moment but then clears my head. And the air, suddenly it’s fall and everything is fresh.

Monday, October 18, 2010

My film is playing this Thursday in San Francisco at the ATA Film and Video Festival!

Here are the details:

ATA Film & Video Festival
“Human Nature” Screening
Thursday, October 21, 8pm, $7 - $10
Artist Television Access
992 Valencia St
San Francisco, CA 94110

Tickets here

All That Sheltering Emptiness, a film by Gina Carducci & Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore, is a meditation on elevators, hotel lobbies, hundred dollar bills, the bathroom, a cab, chandeliers, cocktails, the receptionist, arousal, and other routines in the life of a New York City callboy. Gorgeously hand-processed in full 16mm glory, All That Sheltering Emptiness explodes the typical narratives of desire, escape and intimacy to evoke something more honest. (16mm, color, optical sound, 7 min.)

Wait -- did I mention that I'll be in attendance, just before leaving San Francisco? I'll be there!!!

I do love this...

Wet paint, indeed...

Friday, October 15, 2010

Look at the sky!


Anyway

I wake up in a hole. Or first I wake up wired, that’s the problem, in the middle of the night where it’s still dark now and that means it’s really night which is kind of comforting but not comforting enough. Then I wake up wired a second time, an hour before I would usually wake up and that doesn’t sound like that much except it’s that much. I mean I realize I can’t change the feeling in my head from a catatonic darkness into something like clarity or light or hopefulness or energy or any of the things I want at the beginning of the day, and then I get up anyway.

Except then I realize oh, I shouldn’t have gotten up, so I try to start as much of my cooking is possible, and then I get back in bed, at first it’s still the darkness in my head but then I’m wired again but a little more calm so I get up again. I go out on the fire escape, where at least it’s cloudy, except now the sun is coming out, hurting my eyes, but still I feel calmer from that meditation exercise where you look slowly from one direction to the other and then back.

My sinuses are so much worse today, maybe that’s the problem. No, the problem is the interrupted sleep, it’s getting worse and for a few days I still felt kind of okay, I mean when I didn’t feel horrible, but now I just feel horrible. I wonder if it’s the humidity, if that relates -- is it humid out today? Let me check. 45%. Not insane, but way more humid than yesterday or the day before. Anyway, today I have an appointment with a naturopath, but I feel so awful that I don’t want to go. It’s all the way in Noe Valley, and I have to get there in this sweaty weather with a horrible headache and no energy at all. Then we’ll talk for two hours and I’ll get wired but when we’re done I’ll feel so so drained.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Dry heat

Wait, today it’s incredibly hot but I actually feel okay -- even when I go outside, as long as I stay in the shade it’s not too bad, my head actually feels clear. Is this the fabled dry heat? When I get home I check the humidity -- sure enough, 14%. Maybe Santa Fe will be a good idea, after all.

And even the next day -- yes, my sinuses get dried out, too dry I’m sure and then there’s the sinus headache, I need to find out what will help my sinuses not to get too dry in Santa Fe. But even though my sinuses are dried out, I actually feel better in this heat. At least when I’m on the fire escape, sitting in the sun in nothing but boxers and of course my sun hat, sweat pooling on my forehead until it starts to drip down my face and it kind of feels like I’m exercising. I mean I guess I am exercising, just by sitting here. The bus will be a different story -- I didn’t have to take the bus yesterday. But I’m kind of excited that I don’t feel so awful, I mean right away, I mean probably I’ll feel awful when I go on my first walk of the day, but for now I’m okay so let’s go with it.

Wait, let’s try out the fire escape again, since it’s still before noon and then from noon to 2 I don’t go out on the fire escape because that’s when I end up getting burnt. You know what it is -- it’s the sun that’s giving me energy, not just the sweat dripping into my eyes which I would hate anywhere else but on the fire escape it feels great and actually I don’t have a sinus headache yet, yesterday that happened when I went outside so we’ll see about today but I’m kind of excited, so far.

Okay, now I’ve crashed. My head hurts. I don’t want to go outside again, but I have a feldenkrais appointment. Why is this new cutting board already warping? Okay, I guess I’ll take a shower to see if it helps cool me down, how did it get so warm in my apartment? At least now the weather has switched in Santa Fe, so I can look at the temperature and see oh, 62, how relaxing.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

As close as possible

Somehow I end up at the Nob Hill Theatre. I say somehow, because I don’t really have enough energy to get there, but then I’m there. Its noon -- what will the crowd be like? Soon enough I’m sucking someone’s dick, that crowd works. He wants to fuck me through the glory hole, and even though I haven’t gotten fucked in who knows how long, at least a year, I think it’s so funny for noon in this dark space when it’s so sunny outside, that I ask him if he has a condom. He doesn’t. I go back to sucking. Then he pulls away again, says he’s going to get a condom upstairs. Which means he’s going to buy one, I mean if he’s not really leaving, since they don’t provide free condoms in places like this, just signs for City Clinic.

This guy leaves and someone else take his place right away -- I just see business shirt and slacks and then his dick pushing through the hole, thick and hard already so you know I’m sucking again, this noon thing is working out. Then this guy leans down to whisper through the hole, somehow I didn’t think he was Asian before I mean I guess I wasn’t thinking about anything but his dick, and the blue cross stitch on his white shirt, the smell of detergent, very clean, but now I see his face and I guess that’s where race comes in, he wants to know if I want to go in another booth with him, sure, he leads me to the corner one that doesn’t border any of the others, we go inside, I get on my knees, he holds my head, I’m so hard and he comes down my throat I barely taste it and I love that too -- I love that he comes down my throat, I love that I barely taste it, and then I remember when I was walking in here I thought okay, the one thing I want is a hug, however strange that sounds, so then I kiss him on the neck, and hug him too but kind of diagonally because that’s the arrangement of our bodies and then I tell him I’ll wait until he zips up his pants before I open the door, see I’m so polite.

I go to the bathroom to wash up, and there’s the guy from earlier, washing up too but he looks embarrassed and I can’t tell what exactly he’s washing up from, I say hi but he doesn’t say anything, he leaves and I wash up. Then I wonder where he is, open a door to see what’s next door and it’s someone’s ass through the hole, he’s playing with someone else in the booth oh this is that guy’s ass, the one who wanted to fuck me, I get on my knees to see better and then he turns around and sticks his dick in my mouth, just like that. I’m sucking and then he pulls away and looks down and shows me the foil of a gold condom in his hand, earlier I asked for one that’s polyurethane but I can’t read the brand, I look over to the other guy who’s shy about sucking because he watches while I suck and when the guy pulls out and holds it over for him he just moans and maybe does some kind of navel kissing which is fine with me because I don’t need to share, the other guy’s kind of pasty and I imagine alcohol breath but remember it’s noon, maybe just lunch break, and then the other guy has the condom on his dick but he hasn’t said anything so I worry the pasty guy will get confused but then the guy with the condom says I want to fuck you and this is when I think the invitation is so funny and surreal that I better at least try, earlier actually I just asked him if he had a condom because I suspected he didn’t have one so then I could go back to sucking but now I actually want to see if it will work so I ask if he has lube he says no I say let me use some spit and he holds out his hand, no stick it in my mouth and he takes the condom off to hand it to me, no on your dick. He doesn’t seem to understand, I’m not sure why I mean I don’t think there’s a language barrier -- when he spoke earlier there was no accent, he is Latino but of course that shouldn’t make me assume anything so maybe actually he’s straight, certainly not used to using condoms and even gay guys who don’t use them know how, right? But anyway I suck for a moment and I taste lube, gross but it’s there so I stand up then turn around and start grinding against his dick, not quite hard enough, then not quite the right angle, then he’s trying to force it which never works for me but actually it does work with the wall between us because I have more control, I can feel it going into my asshole but not quite until wait it’s there a little bit and he’s pounding as hard as he can but still it doesn’t quite go in except there’s that rush of sensation all over my skin no in my skin no my body this is my body yes this is what’s hot about getting fucked and then he’s moaning, pulling back, come in the condom, hilarious, maybe this is a good way for me to get fucked actually, maybe I should try this more often I mean usually I’m too scared of the pain to go there but actually it kind of worked.

Then everyone’s gone except for the people who aren’t gone, just a few now but I’m sucking someone else’s dick except he keeps pulling away and actually I wasn’t sure I wanted him to come anyway, at first his dick tasted like plastic I had to look a few times to make sure there wasn’t a condom on it but no just the taste, maybe lube but anyway after he pulls away again I say thanks, walk around in circles for too long but not too too long, trying to think about whether I want to come before I leave, just because I haven’t come in so long and tomorrow I’m going out with someone who I think is extremely hot and what if we end up having sex, I mean we might just talk but if we end up having sex I’ll come too soon I mean unless I come now so then I go in the booth and start watching some porn, looking for the one that turns me on and then there’s someone in the booth next to me, jerking off, oh it’s the guy with the almost-plastic dick, I never know whether to mention race I mean usually I mention it when it comes up but not otherwise but then lately I’ve started to wonder if that means I’m erasing something but really I don’t know, in this case it doesn’t really come up I mean it does come up but not in a way that seems more notable than what he’s wearing or how old he is but the question is something I’ve been thinking about for a while and then I’m leaning back he’s leaning over to watch and I can feel that rush to my head which means I’m going to have to come, eyes closing, my hand under shirt to rub belly down to rub thighs and yes that sudden low moan and there it goes, one two three or is it four bursts up into the air, a great show, almost a puddle on the floor and someone rushes in right after I leave, the guy who looks like a camp counselor, maybe he’ll lick it up or at least bend down to get his nose as close as possible but before I wash up I need to study this one DVD case, the one that says Dildo Me Raw, what the hell does that mean? Maybe it’s some kind of covert trick to change the way barebacking porn is the thing or more importantly the way barebacking is the thing, which may or may not relate to barebacking porn, maybe I’ll watch it next time just to see although dildos don’t turn me on except during the rare moments when I’m using one on myself, but then it’s not about the looking it’s the feeling and when I walk outside I almost can’t believe it’s full-on bright daylight, 1 pm and all this already happened.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Playing with my neighbor

This is so disappointing: I wake up thinking that at least the bloating wasn’t as bad last night, and my sleep wasn’t as interrupted. Then I’m sitting on the fire escape in the sun, already fading, and burping a lot, thinking oh, it must be the supplements I just took, because I’m always thinking about what it must be, but then I realize that I haven’t taken the supplements yet. So then I take the supplements, since I guess they’re not causing this bloating, at least not right now, since it’s already started, and then I get all this pain to add to the bloating. Plus I already feel like I’m ready for bed again, except I’ve only been up for a half-hour. Maybe it’s time for a nap.

Oh, well -- I didn’t take a nap. I decided I needed to eat first, then I decided to go on a walk, outside where suddenly my face is so clogged with allergies but at least the friendly neighborhood cat is waiting at the fence for my hands to reach through. She really loves to lick your fingers, which I love, until she wants to bring me closer so she reaches her paw out with irritation and I get worried she’s going to scratch me. That’s usually when I leave -- my hands starts to hurt from reaching through the fence anyway, but at least I got that laughing feeling from sitting on the sidewalk playing with my neighbor.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Helpful now

Where I want to stay: in this circle of irises growing taller and taller, I can look up and up and they just keep growing, the stems surrounding me in this shallow pond. When I go to the bathroom after therapy is done and I see the poster for Monet’s water lilies, I think oh. But first I just think yes.

Before it’s the exhaustion or worse than the exhaustion it’s the exhaustion that never ends, and then pain in my gut and then the exhaustion again, this started because the therapist suggested by picture Chris at that scary time when I thought he might hit me, to look at him but then I just feel like a skull in the dirt where my father’s left me, worms growing out of my eye sockets. Later, the therapist says I forgot all the places you go when you do EMDR with Mattilda. And: how I can find myself in these overwhelming places, over and over again, but I do find a way to get out, in my imagination. How helpful that was as a kid. I wonder if it’s helpful now.

Thursday, October 07, 2010

A welcome addition, for sure...

Swing in

Day like today I find myself wondering whether there was really a time when Michael Musto’s column in the Village Voice actually revealed secret worlds, not just Hollywood gossip but something I wanted to find, or whether that was just how it felt when I read it from the prospective perspective of outrunning childhood. Like when I would jerk off to the photos in Interview magazine, upstairs while I was waiting for my father to be done with his patients, I mean on the roof of the building where he had an office, in a little room that was kind of like a library with discarded magazines, I went through all those copies of Interview, thinking about when I would live in New York.

But what makes me think of Michael Musto? Oh, he’s in one of the songs on this LCD Soundsystem album -- James Murphy says eat it, Michael Musto. But what does he want Michael Musto to eat, probably a raspberry meringue, like the Prince song, you remember singing it, right? “She wore a raspberry meringue, I think I lo-o-o-ove her.” What’s a meringue? Like a hat.

We didn’t know about Michael Musto yet, this was camp, no not that camp, really, where the boys in my cabin wanted me to swing in on a rope for the talent show to Van Halen’s “Jump, for my love.” Or whoever sings that song. Maybe Michael Musto. It was because I was the skinniest, they thought it would be easier for me. There was no way I was going to swing in on a rope, especially not for these boys who taunted me all the time, suddenly there was something I could do for them.

How did I know they would catch me? Jordan says there are some songs where you’re supposed to understand the lyrics and then there’s some songs where you’re not. She means that this isn’t one of those songs. All of the songs I listen to. I mean this is one of those songs, the ones where you’re not supposed to understand the lyrics, but now you can find the lyrics to anything online, and I was so disappointed when I realized Lady Gaga wasn’t saying “I’ll get him high, show him what a guy.”

I’m almost tempted to go to an LCD Soundsystem show, even though I hate shows because everyone just stands around and there will be smoke of one type or another although actually this show is outdoors, although outdoors on Treasure Island where definitely no one would catch me but what I’m saying is that I do listen to this album over and over. All the instruments James Murphy plays at once and the way he’s always saying something sexual even when it isn’t sexual but mostly because he makes rock music that builds, I mean it sounds like rock music to me even if they put it in the electronic section because of the lyrics and the instruments even if Jordan thinks you’re not supposed to understand them and what I mean is that it’s not rock music because it builds and Murphy likes to say circular things like that or not quite circular because he switches it up whether it’s a rhyme or just the way it knocks you or the way the music circles you I know sometimes rock music builds but here is the synthesizer beats that build oh those beats and you know when people say they don’t like to hear DJs live, that’s what I think about hearing anyone but DJs live but then I read someone saying that LCD Soundsystem was the best show they ever saw, I don’t know if that’s a good or bad sign but I do know the way James Murphy’s voice wraps around no not his voice it’s the lyrics and how hilarious and clever they are even when they’re not clever enough but especially when they are and yes his voice too the way it sounds casual and unpracticed and accidentally crackly but you know it’s not and the way every album has an arc through excitement and crazed dancing and nostalgia and hope or hopelessness or something in between and when you get to the end no when I get to the end sometimes I’m ready to hear it again and when he says eat this Michael Musto I wonder if actually I did swing in on that rope.

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

I keep thinking this plant is going to flower, will it flower before I leave???

New office

I wanted to write something, earlier, when I actually had energy and could pull together thoughts. Earlier ended recently. Now that it’s ended, I can try anyway, just to see. To see what I can come up with. I didn’t like it when the therapist showed up at the office 20 minutes late because she was setting up her new office and lost track of time, is that really a good excuse? I was sitting in the waiting room thinking I wonder if this is the right day, is there a clock around here, I think it’s late, maybe I’m supposed to knock on the door but I’ve never heard of a therapist’s office where you knock on the door and I don’t want to interrupt anyone, but what if she’s on the other side of the door, just waiting?

Anyway, then she rushed in, and our session had to end early because of the next client, she said she would add five minutes onto our next session, but it seemed like the session was at least 10 minutes shorter, right? I didn’t say anything, didn’t want to argue about something like that, even though actually the session was more than 10 minutes shorter because at the beginning we talked about the fact that she was so late. I wouldn’t have minded if there was some kind of emergency, but setting up her new office, really?

Tuesday, October 05, 2010

Check out my review of Eileen Myles' brilliant new book, on Bookslut...

Here it is...

Of course, let me know your thoughts...

Oh, my -- 15 boxes of books, and counting...

Tension and pollution and dissolution but luckily

Homeopathy can be so strange. I take the new remedy again, and immediately the bloating gets much worse, I feel sad and exhausted and my body hurts so I take a shower. But then, when I got out of the shower, I feel like something’s cleared. I go outside for a late-night walk, or what feels like late-night now, even though it’s only 9 pm. While I’m walking I get this burst of sexual energy, physical energy that actually makes me want to grab that guy across the street and fuck him against that car. I mean I’m always looking for sexual possibilities on my walks, even though they never arise. But it’s usually in a different way -- I just want to feel something other than awful. This time it’s a physical horniness that feels rare these days, maybe once every few weeks. A few blocks later and it’s gone, but my body feels more present in the street.

Then I get home, stay up too late reading, which doesn’t mean that late at all, maybe just 20 more minutes but that means I cross the line from being exhausted and calm to being exhausted and desperate, I hate crossing that line it just makes me angry at myself, like if I went to bed 20 minutes earlier everything would be okay. And then I get these weird hiccups -- I can’t even remember the last time I got hiccups so it must be the homeopathic remedy -- and then I’m walking around in my apartment for another hour just to try to get a hold on things before I get in bed, until I give up and get in bed anyway, and then it’s not as bad as I thought it would be but of course I wake up at 5 am all wired or actually I’m not wired at first, but I’m awake, and then I’m awake and wired, and whenever I’m awake in bed then the burping starts and that keeps me awake and later on it’s gas which feels better because it’s more of a release, but still I’m wondering when will I ever sleep well, this is after I fell back asleep, eventually, but I wake up and my face feels stuffed with tension and pollution and dissolution but luckily I fall back asleep again and then in my dream I have a whole conversation with my father in French, waking up from that dream I think it’s hilarious because my father never spoke French, and I always like it when I’m speaking French in a dream, it happens every now and then and that’s hilarious too, right? Because I rarely speak French, so when it happens in a dream it really makes me want to learn it again.

I guess the other day I had a phone conversation with Daniel Allen Cox in French, or at least the beginning of the conversation in French -- he’s in Montréal, and he was impressed, and going to Montréal was really what made me realize oh, I love speaking French, I mean even if my French isn’t so great right now it just felt so different in Montréal where French wasn’t this posh thing that only the most pompous people spoke. Actually, Francophone Montréal is generally more working-class than Anglophone Montréal. Anyway, I was speaking to my father in French in the dream, and when I woke up I was in a good mood even though I didn’t feel like I’d slept enough but I got up anyway because might as well go with the good mood, right? And now I’m still in a good mood, kind of bouncy and energetic, we’ll see how long that lasts.

Okay, it didn’t last long, but even when I’ve crashed today I’ve bounced up too, so maybe that’s a good sign? The homeopath has an idea for a new remedy, oh I hope this one helps.

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Two upcoming screenings of All That Sheltering Emptiness!

First, in Victoria, British Columbia:

Antimatter Film Festival
Saturday, October 9, 9pm
"Noise Unto the World" program
Open Space
510 Fort St
Victoria, BC V8W 1E6
Canada

And, in San Francisco:

The ATA Film & Video Festival
"Human Nature" Screening
Thursday, October 21, 8pm, $7 - $10
San Francisco, CA 94110
(I'll be at this screening in person, just before my San Francisco departure...)

All That Sheltering Emptiness, a film by Gina Carducci & Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore, is a meditation on elevators, hotel lobbies, hundred dollar bills, the bathroom, a cab, chandeliers, cocktails, the receptionist, arousal, and other routines in the life of a New York City callboy. Gorgeously hand-processed in full 16mm glory, All That Sheltering Emptiness explodes the typical narratives of desire, escape and intimacy to evoke something more honest. (16mm, color, optical sound, 7 min.)

But where is the cat?