an evolution of hair do-s and a confident speller. a lover of san francisco and a cat called xavier. if you're in the neighborhood, stop by. we can listen to marilyn monroe records and drink wine.
think-move art
check out my other project - a space for conversations about the moving body; its complexities, its function, its ability to make art. equal parts health, wellness, art and education - challenging socio/political/gender normatives. www.thinkmoveart.com
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so much good in 2012. nestled right in with the pain and the loss. clean sheets tonight for the first sleep of 2013. a refrigerator full of groceries. a quiet night all to myself.
happy last day of 2012. maybe two yoga classes today.
this is part one of a two (maybe three) part post.
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i've written and deleted this post on a daily basis since december 14. that was the day of the sandy hook elementary school shooting in newtown, connecticut.
i've been a whole mixed bag of thoughts and feelings and shit since this happened and am filled with questions about our world.
why?
i grew up in long beach, california in a lovely neighborhood by the beach. long beach has a long-standing reputation of being a rough community filled with gang violence and boasts to be the home of more than one nationally-known gang. at times, this reputation is true. though, it does not rule our community.
growing up, i knew of shootings, drive-bys, gang initiations and city-wide riots. i went to high school with a young man who was killed by gun violence. i also went to school with a young man who was convicted of murder.
i have never lived in fear. never thought i could be next.
when i hear the dialogue about the state of our nation's politics as it relates to gun control and protection after an even like sandy hook, i can only express concern and confusion. when i hear that a common response is to put armed police officers in every school in our country - or to encourage educators to carry weapons in the classroom - this is when i begin to consider fear. fear that this is what it's come to.
we are a country living in fear.
this evening i read this post by one of my absolute favorite bloggers, hila at le projet d'amour. the post is incredibly brilliant and highly charged, which i love, and is as it should be. hila touches on some exceptional issues surrounding victim-blaming in cases of rape and sexual assault. as you may have already guessed, i've got whole pile of opinions on this... tonight, my take-away thought that provoked this post, is the idea that telling a woman to dress more conservatively, to wear flats instead of heels, to be sober 100% of the time or to never be alone, ever, promotes fear. fear that we are not safe. we are educating and encouraging women to not get raped, instead of telling rapists not to rape.
Change is not going to magically happen if we keep regurgitating this crap over and over again – if we keep telling women that it’s their responsibility to make sure they don’t get raped, rather than telling rapists not to rape.
ok. so i'm having a couple of conversations at the same time here... but i'm hoping you get where i'm going with this. how on earth can we ask ourselves to carry more weapons and expect to avoid weapon-driven violence? i took hours upon hours of gang-related, anti-violence, d.a.r.e-type classroom modules throughout elementary school. it worked for me, personally, though i know it didn't resonate with everyone. what is missing? how do we regain control and live proactively?
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check back in the next few days as i continue to delve into the ideas of education, communication, dialogue and mental wellness as a response to living in fear in part two.
i think i've always known that we're a pretty unconventional family. this year's holiday plan is no exception.
i'm en route to the adirondacks to hang with jordan and his clan whilst my folks are spend the next few days in my apartment in san francisco. i left them some guest family staples as gifts... a couple packets of post-it notes, a handful of pencils and a box of california clementines. i also threw in a heavy duty lint roller and a jar of ear-plugs... in case that darling cat sends my dad into orbit.
tonyguest asked for a mix-tape for christmas. he said, doodle, i want some good rock and roll. you know what i like right? maybe a couple versions of baba o'riley and the rest of the stuff i like. you know what i like.
here it is...
i got to see them both for 15 minutes. they flew in from long beach on the aircraft that took me straight back to long beach to meet up with jordan... same flight crew and all! we had a pretty good giggle about our incredible luck.
i saw a blog post recently that had a title something like this: trends to leave behind in 2012. it was a complete guide on what should absolutely be left behind, under-no-circumstance-should-you-ever-wear-navajo-print-ever-again, especially in 2013 kind of post.
it was endless. and i found myself thinking, shit. i love navajo print. wait.
what?
navajo print?
are you kidding me?
not native american print. not southwestern print. navajo. only one of the 550-ish federally recognized tribes in the united states alone. it is their print? they lay claim to that style of textile? and you did the research to back that up? (my assumption is no. and it is an assumption - something i'm working at not doing anymore - so if you did do the research. i apologize. i think my thoughts are still relevant, though.)
for the record, the navajo nation website does not include a section on its peoples' prints as a staple of culture.
i know, it's not that big of a deal... only it is. in tiny corners of the blog world, bits and pieces of gross generalization are becoming the norm - mainstream. and we tend to make excuses for people all too much. excusing bloggers, writers and reporters who had "good intentions" or "didn't mean it that way."
so. check it. mean it. say what you mean. mean what you say. and think before you hit publish or send.
this blog that i'm referring to, i can't even find it again. i google searched trends to leave behind in 2012, and i got thousands of posts. not the specific one i was looking for, though. so whoever the author of that post is... is probably not making a huge dent in the grande lexicon of it all. hell, neither am i. however, i am thinking. listening. counting on you and me to hold me and this blog accountable. to let me know, respectfully, when i say something asinine or disrespectful.
because really, it's what creates dialogue. it's what we thrive on to continue to learn and to create change and awareness in our techno-centric world in 2013. the human component.
oy. this was supposed to be a post about how i've always loved southwestern print, high-ponytail buns (currently known as the top-knot), bold colors and feather prints/accessories. (all of which i am to leave behind in 2012 to avoid social ridicule and embarrassment. eff that.)
so. hey, fashion blogger i can't find - i'm gonna keep wearing all these faux pas things, as i've always done. i'll just wait until they come back around in another twenty to fifty years - i'll be trendy again then!
please don't tell me what to do, how to think or what to wear. as nene leakes of the real housewives of atlanta once brilliantly and so eloquently said, if that's your style, that's your style.
a few weeks ago i began reading this blog. i read the whole thing. ya, even the archives clear back to the days of live journal. oy. i realize in today's savvy world, this makes me sound a bit like a blog-stalker. i can assure you, i just like control. i need all the info... so i went and got it. and seriously, katie's blog is loads of unpredictable fun.
anywho, when i was perusing her past posts, i saw the most amazing poster... a roman holiday movie poster, in italian! so lovely. so i hightailed to the google page and searched for roman holiday posters, because, hello?! it's on my top-five-of-all-time list. i didn't find the poster that i was looking for, per se...
i found better! team, please click the following link for claudia varosio's etsy shop. she illustrates unofficial movie posters, paper dolls and pop culture prints. you're welcome. here's what i bought...!!!!!!!!
roman holiday (duh)
before sunrise (also on my top-5 list - because, ps... claudia has all but one on my top-5 (some like it hot is not a movie poster in her shop, though she does have other marilyn monroe film posters) we're soul sisters for sure).
moonrise kingdom (i know, a bold choice for top-5... but wes anderson is an undisputed genius and moonrise kingdom spoke to me in a way that all his other films have... this one just made it clear... this runs deep for him. he's making brilliant films on purpose, it's in his very make-up).
(in case you're wondering, the last film on my top-5 is casablanca. and she has a poster for it... honestly, i was in a swirly state of euphoria when i was looking through all the prints, i didn't even see it... it'll be in my next order though!).
how about this awesome print for the smiths'song there's a light that never goes out...
look at this clementine kruczynski paper doll from eternal sunshine of the spotles mind... i bought it as a gift for my dear pal over at the daily bun.
and for the record, i totes made my top-5 list pre-etsy purchase. it's in print because it was one of the first email conversations jordan and i had after we met that day in the park.
the point is, go over to etsy and buy yourself some pretty things.
fyi, it's 36 degrees this morning. ouf. it's meant to be 14 degrees on monday in lowville, ny... where i will be for christmas. seriously? wish me luck!
it's been a doozy of a weekend... remembering hana in a way that honors her spirit, while also attending a completely confusing memorial service.
at any rate. i discovered this music this weekend while perusing the kinfolk magazine videos. i think hana would have been a pretty remarkable inspiration for these folks. so, here's my new favorite tune...
i drove to work in the dark yesterday. driving south on 101 at 5:07am is dark and calm. and just over the san francisco airport was a waxing crescent moon. riding low and saying good morning with that wide smile of hers.
the rest of the day felt still. still and quiet.
a welcomed change.
even as i came home in the city's bustling 8 o'cock hour, my little corner of the castro felt eerily quiet. no book club to peek in on at books inc. no line of cars waiting for the light at 16th and market. plenty of open parking. and a crispy breeze through empty streets reminds me how much space there can actually be in my dense little city.
i think the universe knew exactly what i needed.
i lost one of the dearest women in my life this weekend. it's fair to say that i have loved four people equally in my lifetime... with an equal sense of familial love. my mom and dad. hana and john kapu. john left many years ago. hana left late last week. oh it hurts.
though i'm working to celebrate and honor her life rather than ache uncontrollably in her death.
jordan's here! and oh, i'm soaking up every once of my bearded-spectacled man...
this weekend's playlist is a bit of a cheat, but come on... i've got other things goin' on round these parts, knowwhatimsayin'...
the first weekend that jordan and i ever spent together, he flew up to san francisco and wanted to bring me a gift. flowers? no. sweets? no sir. he made me a mix tape.
we'd known each other for exactly 20 days. so give you, the 20 days and counting mix tape...
i haven't seen jordan in a while. since thanksgiving, i think. we had a few on again-off again weekends before that. and before that - a month apart. it's getting regular. one week on, one week off. it's like being the kid in a divorce, which neither of us know anything about - only we're not. we're just apart.
when i look back into my relationship past, which i've been doing a lot lately thanks to some really whacky dreams, i don't know that i could have ever imagined or predicted or acknowledged the likelihood of my current situation. i've been a now - right now - i want what i want when i say that i want it - kind of gal for almost always. so, to be here, in the kind of relationship that is so good in the now, even though our physical now is always in counting the days till our next weekend, i'm surprising myself.
i told jordan last night that i thought we had gotten to the point in our time together when we get to do the work. you know, the good stuff. the details. the nitty gritty. the real work. am i crazy? (duh) because i meant it in the greatest way. like, look! we've not fucked it up. and we still like each other.
after some confusion, we got there. probably because i didn't have a big old emotional meltdown and because we both used our adult words and let each other take turns talking. and that was exactly it - doing the solid talk-work stuff to understand each other, instead of avoiding each other or hurting each other's feelings.
he's my favorite jordan-boyfriend-partner-man. ever.
it was last year at this time, when things were sour... when i was desperately searching for some semblance of control, peace, understanding and grasping for the seedlings of forgiveness.
it's been quite a year. taking ownership and responsibility for all the things that happen in my life. acknowledging the pieces of the puzzle that i have control over and meditating on the pieces that i don't... in order to choose my responses and reactions.
a new job. some dumb ass human interactions. the loss of my dearest grandpa jim. a hawaiian and a mexican vacation. countless conversations with big red, tonyguest and my favorite pals. anger. frustration. gratitude. jordan.
there have been some relapses, some triumphs and a shit-ton of growth. everyday.
full.
at this time last year, my neighbors put up a community wish list to santa. they covered their garage door with paper, set out sharpies and let the community have at it. it's up again.
it's pretty remarkable, don't you think? this is what i asked for last year...
and here's what's up this year...
if you can't read my scrawly handwriting...
dear santa,
thanks for bringing me exactly what i asked for last year... take this year off! you deserve a break!
the sky is falling here in san francisco. i spent the night waking up periodically to deafening rain and wind. my south-facing bay window takes quite a beating in a storm.
it's day two of my weekend-long sit-fest. i stayed in all day yesterday and plan on doing the same today. i feel quite proud though, that i managed to get up for two, very mellow, social outings. pho with jake on friday and sushi/game of thrones with nichole last night. all good things.
i've got jack white, ben howard, ryan adams and the wailin' jennys on a pretty equal rotation this weekend. if you haven't yet purchased jack white's blunderbuss - make it a priority, please. ben howard is a new find for me (sometimes i get on the wagon a few stops later than everyone else), though ryan adams is locked securely away in my heart for all time. check out howard's every kingdom and this weekend's adams spotlight, heartbreaker. i heard the wailin' jennys for the first time last night while i was driving in the rain to the richmond - via patchwork quilt, kevin vance's folk-centered radio program on kalw, 91.7fm, san francisco. the canadian trio is hauntingly beautiful.
so, with all this in mind and some great help from spotify's artist-radio feature... i made you this playlist.
i'm writing in another place... i'll still be here, but i can also be found at thinkmoveart.com, my new space for movement/thought exploration. think-move art is a space for conversation about the moving body; its complexities, its function, its ability to create art.
thanks for stopping by. and please, share your thoughts...
Behavior is rarely rational; it is habitually emotional. We may speak wise words as the result of reasoning, but the entire being reacts to feeling. For every thought supported by feeling, there is a muscle change.
-Mabel Ellsworth Todd, The Thinking Body
Pina Bausch - Tanzteater Wuppertal - Rite of Spring
... an almost death.
"Oh honey, it was just a spell."
But the goose egg on your forehead; purple-yellow cheeks tell it as a different story.
It smelled of gun powder and pipe tobacco. My fingers, black and fluorescent from scraping my nails against clay targets.
PULL - BANG - BREAK
I wiped my eyes. Tears, mascara and dirty fingers left stripes of war paint across my forehead and cheeks; solidarity for your marks.
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The day after my mom called to tell me about her "spell," was the sorest day I can recall. My gut and visceral reactions made every muscle in my body tense. I slept poorly. My jaw locked. I could hardly move the next day. The fear reflex, the primal reaction to protect - changed my body.