Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

i remember this, but the vividness of it...

my coworker and i had been planning for weeks to leave work together for lunch one day, and on this particular day, we finally decided to just forward the office's phone lines to my cell phone for the lunch break. after lunch at a chinese restaurant we ...

hey judih. don't have your email address and this was the one place i thought i could find out whether you were okay. the news is always horrid but i'm happy to see you're okay

i was highly interested to read that new orleans wasn't, in fact, built in a bowl, that instead it's been washed out into the gulf over the years. that makes sense.

also, i didn't mean that nobody thinks about hurricanes making landfall. i was thinking about people who decide to "ride out ...

i've been so obsessed with the situations along the coastline that i can't bear to read all of the posts up to this point. i think that responding with my bit will be good, though.

i've never before witnessed a catastrophic hurricane. the only ones i've directly witnessed have been hurricane opal ...

aww hest... i've already bought my ticket, which is nonrefundable. but i'm sure i'll return to your area. i'd love to explore oregon. actually, i'm potentially moving there.

i'll see you.

not exactly in astoria...

i'm going to arrive in seattle this saturday, meet with miss piph, and sightsee with her all day sunday before i have to grab a bus headed north on sunday afternoon around 4:30.

i know this is pretty short notice, but if you wanted to visit seattle, it would be great to ...

hey, thanks, you two. i'm trying to start writing again, and your responses are nice to read.

hey hest! did you get my mail? i'm gonna be in your area this weekend....

just a few nothings
i've written as words
in nonexstent ink

i learned to talk at some
foggy, indescernible age,
when the colors fell in syllables
to their deaths in punctuation,
and the skyline heaved a sigh
and became an ellipsis

hanging, waiting for the time
to learn to breathe to
wait
to hurry blurs along
the notes we weave to speak.

she was waiting ...

i agree with judih. i like it.

and, yes: is it a cut-up? if so, what is your method, exactly? this isn't disheveled like many cut-ups i read. this one is good.

(actioning with lucy's poem)

i think i want to die
with the flowers of your garden.
i want to lay graceful by comparison,
hidden between the dust and the creases
of the felt petals quivering in the smoke you breathe
when you burn my fingertips. i want
to fall enamored, skin swirling
through the ...

this is so kickass...

i am owl. i knew it.



and the personality one... uh... no. my results described me as a dictator. i should take it again when i'm not pissed off at the world.

i forgot to include a list of things on my desk... just to fit in, yes:

*monitor
*18 music cds
*haphazard pile/stack of movies, music, and software in disc form
*pc speakers
*mail
*stapler
*safety pins
*push pins
*packaging tape
*plain clear tape
*correction tape
*business card display unit ...

i love clutter. i keep it around and cherish it until it begins to pile or hides important things like oh, say, writing instruments, prescription medication, or the dog.

these days, i clean my bedroom about once per month, i think. i clean when i'm unable to walk across the room with the light out ...

my stance:

i think that death is a pretty pathetic punishment. "here, let me teach you the right way to be by killing you. there you go. good human." uh huh.

if the overall sentiment is that killing is wrong, that killers are wrong, then killing to exemplify that killing is wrong is pretty shoddy ...