think twice
makes me think of double think
makes me think of communism
so don't think twice
it's alright
I was thinking through my list of favorite movies. Since I never include them in places such as 'About Me' I'll put it here.
Movie List:
The Prestige
Million Dollar Brain
Whale Rider
(500) Days of Summer
The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Spy Kids
Fantasia 2000
A Breakfast At Tiffany's
Splash
Forrest Gump
Ferris Bueller's Day Off
V for Vendetta
October Sky
Apollo 13
Robinhood
Men in Tights
History of the World Part 1
Young Frankenstein
Blazing Saddles
The Lorax
Elf
Mr. and Mrs. Smith
School of Rock
Peter Pan
Hook
Flubber
August Rush
Slumdog Millionaire
The Sting
Never Cry Wolf
Candy
Harry Potter Mania
Juno
X-Men
Fight Club
The Little Mermaid
Shrek
King Corn
Watchmen
Rememeber the Titans
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
Hidalgo
National Velvet
Edward Scissorhands
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Pineapple Express
Little Shop of Horrors
Dancing With Wolves
The Waterboy
UP
Wall.E
.....
Eventually there will come a time when there are more.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Ramblings in a 50 post
Oh, yey! Joyous yey, I made it to 50 posts and I have twice that many views. My blog is growing, who knew this could be so much fun and substance (Microsoft’s synonym for stuff). For celebration I might write a story.
The aisles were cool, the refrigerated air sinking lower, frisking my bare heels as I walked between the low piled stacks of fresh fruit. Stickers of the various countries of origin hidden underneath the plastic bags, the fleshy skin pressing into the racks, kiwis and pomegranates looking back at me as I rolled my cart past the displays, the right front wheel wobbling and squeaking. My eyes were glazed, droopy with the cool AC, cold air draping itself along my damp hair that still smelled of chlorine, the chill prickling along the sun burnt brown of my skin and dulling the oncoming heat stroke. The produce section had to be my favorite part of the store in the summer, the rich summer vegetables were finally ripe naturally, not gassed like the tomatoes of January. I picked up only the exotics while I was there, plantains and pineapples, things that would complement the growing variety of freshly grown vegetables that hard work, a couple wheelbarrows of rocks and countless blisters had finally sprouted from the Earth. This far into the season I couldn’t clean the dirt out of my nails except when I spent the whole day at the pool, drenching my skin in the glorious chemical chlorine and developing sunglass tans as I lay out on the cement pool deck, taking a break from the chilly, summer water. That’s where I had been, before coming here, restocking on only the essentials. Fruit, vegetables, bread. The only things to eat when it was this hot, running when imbibing anything thicker or more filling would be treacherous territory when the world was burned this sweating. I wheeled along, thinking of The Lord of the Flies, how the boys couldn’t survive on the fruit. In the summertime I reverted to vegetarianism, the body reacting calmly to the garnet strawberries, peridot pea gems picked fresh and eaten, still in their pods by the wandering hungry gardener. Maybe I just had too much time on my hands, to grow fruit this well, but maybe it was just my calling. Looking now inside the misty lots I saw other people’s handy work, shined up and marketed to me, gleaming. “Sitting in an English garden, waiting for the sun.”, checking out I watched other people with beer and meat cookies…..
To be continued when I wake up....
The aisles were cool, the refrigerated air sinking lower, frisking my bare heels as I walked between the low piled stacks of fresh fruit. Stickers of the various countries of origin hidden underneath the plastic bags, the fleshy skin pressing into the racks, kiwis and pomegranates looking back at me as I rolled my cart past the displays, the right front wheel wobbling and squeaking. My eyes were glazed, droopy with the cool AC, cold air draping itself along my damp hair that still smelled of chlorine, the chill prickling along the sun burnt brown of my skin and dulling the oncoming heat stroke. The produce section had to be my favorite part of the store in the summer, the rich summer vegetables were finally ripe naturally, not gassed like the tomatoes of January. I picked up only the exotics while I was there, plantains and pineapples, things that would complement the growing variety of freshly grown vegetables that hard work, a couple wheelbarrows of rocks and countless blisters had finally sprouted from the Earth. This far into the season I couldn’t clean the dirt out of my nails except when I spent the whole day at the pool, drenching my skin in the glorious chemical chlorine and developing sunglass tans as I lay out on the cement pool deck, taking a break from the chilly, summer water. That’s where I had been, before coming here, restocking on only the essentials. Fruit, vegetables, bread. The only things to eat when it was this hot, running when imbibing anything thicker or more filling would be treacherous territory when the world was burned this sweating. I wheeled along, thinking of The Lord of the Flies, how the boys couldn’t survive on the fruit. In the summertime I reverted to vegetarianism, the body reacting calmly to the garnet strawberries, peridot pea gems picked fresh and eaten, still in their pods by the wandering hungry gardener. Maybe I just had too much time on my hands, to grow fruit this well, but maybe it was just my calling. Looking now inside the misty lots I saw other people’s handy work, shined up and marketed to me, gleaming. “Sitting in an English garden, waiting for the sun.”, checking out I watched other people with beer and meat cookies…..
To be continued when I wake up....
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Under the Sea
"I am making a return to Forks In Her Hair!"
The title has a meaning, unlike some of my post titles, the title of my blog actually has a meaning.
It is actually a bit of Disney. But, the real story of the Little Mermaid is much different than any sugared up animated VHS version you have at home.
...I was had a Little Mermaid alarm clock. It played "Under the Sea" every morning. I hated it, and clocks....and time.
But the idea of being to naive that you comb your hair with a fork is wonderful. Also the idea of having a tail. That would be cool. And meeting a woman named Ursala. And having rock hard abs from dolphin strokes.
"Under the sea
Under the sea
Darling it's better
Down where it's wetter
Take it from me
Up on the shore they work all day
Out in the sun they slave away
While we devotin'
Full time to floatin'
Under the sea"
if you engage the eye, the mind will follow
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
goodbye
Salutations, to a swing set slam
spring hit hard on the southern land
revolving door of a seasonal sprawl
robins are singing, can you hear their call?
there are pink flamingos rising upon the shelves
of the inner city stores and into the mell
that is backyard bedazzled
in pink plastic summer frazzle
the sunshine is humming
its throwing, its running
its coming out tomorrow,
winter is sorrow
you can't have spring come now
but its not far away, rousing
and shaking itself
causing all the men in snow to melt
the wind is shouting
evergreens scowling
their foliage replaced by sweet green buds
and you jump and its thudding
decorations across people's yards
swimming in mud, in March
spring hit hard on the southern land
revolving door of a seasonal sprawl
robins are singing, can you hear their call?
there are pink flamingos rising upon the shelves
of the inner city stores and into the mell
that is backyard bedazzled
in pink plastic summer frazzle
the sunshine is humming
its throwing, its running
its coming out tomorrow,
winter is sorrow
you can't have spring come now
but its not far away, rousing
and shaking itself
causing all the men in snow to melt
the wind is shouting
evergreens scowling
their foliage replaced by sweet green buds
and you jump and its thudding
decorations across people's yards
swimming in mud, in March
Monday, February 22, 2010
White knuckles...Maybe it isn't so bad?
The word of the day is fallacious.
I must go and say that I had the best bagel today.
It had:
cream cheese
cranberry sauce
turkey
lettuce
and swiss cheese
...ok so it was a bagel sandwich, but it was monstrously good.
"She's my best friend's girl"
When I used to attend church regularly and I took piano lessons in the sanctuary of the Presbyterian church there once was a time when I walked in and heard angels. The music crawled into my spine and I ran back out into the Fellowship hall. My piano asked if I had heard it to when she saw my face. My piano teacher was half deaf.
Turns out someone had turned a recording of a childrens choir to one of the lowest settings on the speaker and it had been playing a loop half the afternoon 'til I had arrived after school and finally suckered up enough courage to turn it off. When the music stopped the light stopped filtering through the stained glass and the white speckles of dust that flaoted in the shafts of light.
Maybe that is how I understand the making of music.
My constant rotational playlist that I will not include on my blog because I am uppity about those sort of things include:
Under Pressure- Queen
Kenya Dig It- Ruby Suns
The Air Near My Fingers- The White Stripes
Golden Years- David Bowie
You Make My Dreams- Hall & Oates
Ringa Ringa- A. R. Rahman
These Arms of Mine- Otis Redding
Leapord Skin Pill Box Hat- Beck
My Best Friends Girl- Weezer
Love today- Mika
Daft Punk vs. Gorillaz- 19-2000 Funk
Scottish Pop- Spearmint
Hang the DJ- The Smiths
White Knuckles- OK Go
3rd planet- Modest Mouse
Origin of Love- Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Play It Cool- Super Furry Animals
I must go and say that I had the best bagel today.
It had:
cream cheese
cranberry sauce
turkey
lettuce
and swiss cheese
...ok so it was a bagel sandwich, but it was monstrously good.
"She's my best friend's girl"
When I used to attend church regularly and I took piano lessons in the sanctuary of the Presbyterian church there once was a time when I walked in and heard angels. The music crawled into my spine and I ran back out into the Fellowship hall. My piano asked if I had heard it to when she saw my face. My piano teacher was half deaf.
Turns out someone had turned a recording of a childrens choir to one of the lowest settings on the speaker and it had been playing a loop half the afternoon 'til I had arrived after school and finally suckered up enough courage to turn it off. When the music stopped the light stopped filtering through the stained glass and the white speckles of dust that flaoted in the shafts of light.
Maybe that is how I understand the making of music.
My constant rotational playlist that I will not include on my blog because I am uppity about those sort of things include:
Under Pressure- Queen
Kenya Dig It- Ruby Suns
The Air Near My Fingers- The White Stripes
Golden Years- David Bowie
You Make My Dreams- Hall & Oates
Ringa Ringa- A. R. Rahman
These Arms of Mine- Otis Redding
Leapord Skin Pill Box Hat- Beck
My Best Friends Girl- Weezer
Love today- Mika
Daft Punk vs. Gorillaz- 19-2000 Funk
Scottish Pop- Spearmint
Hang the DJ- The Smiths
White Knuckles- OK Go
3rd planet- Modest Mouse
Origin of Love- Hedwig and the Angry Inch
Play It Cool- Super Furry Animals
Sunday, February 21, 2010
A Guided Dream
a society of trees
collecting air with me
and I was there
sitting in their patched-in sunlight
some were breathing at the same pace
and you could see it in their sweep of leaves
and some were sinking far beneath me
taking a drink
I tapped in. The wires were the roots and this was the heart. There were veins and pulses. That jarring awakening of another deeper life farther beyond yours, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. There was the white stain of a headlight sun on the backs of my eye lids. It stretched from a circle into a white flat boundless field in front of me and I stepped in. It felt right.
I was there, in the mind's eye of another. But I wasn't, just coursing in through the gentle waves of being. Both sets of eyes closed. I was standing in the blank whiteness of it all, the air was still and the sky was falling around me in a stark dome.
There was an image flashed onto the top of the dome and the sky grew dark around me.
I laid down so that I could look better at the screen.
When I opened my eyes I was looking up and the film was done.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I want to be able to walk myself into my own dreams
but if I spend all this time in my own subconscious
how will I make it in my real life
there is an itchiness in hypnosis
and my head hurts when I close my eyes
I enter a blankness if I am moving
if I spend my meditating in this way
can I see things clearer
I find the subtleties in things much clearer
if I can look through them with someone else
I don't want to spend all my time sleeping.
collecting air with me
and I was there
sitting in their patched-in sunlight
some were breathing at the same pace
and you could see it in their sweep of leaves
and some were sinking far beneath me
taking a drink
I tapped in. The wires were the roots and this was the heart. There were veins and pulses. That jarring awakening of another deeper life farther beyond yours, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. There was the white stain of a headlight sun on the backs of my eye lids. It stretched from a circle into a white flat boundless field in front of me and I stepped in. It felt right.
I was there, in the mind's eye of another. But I wasn't, just coursing in through the gentle waves of being. Both sets of eyes closed. I was standing in the blank whiteness of it all, the air was still and the sky was falling around me in a stark dome.
There was an image flashed onto the top of the dome and the sky grew dark around me.
I laid down so that I could look better at the screen.
When I opened my eyes I was looking up and the film was done.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I want to be able to walk myself into my own dreams
but if I spend all this time in my own subconscious
how will I make it in my real life
there is an itchiness in hypnosis
and my head hurts when I close my eyes
I enter a blankness if I am moving
if I spend my meditating in this way
can I see things clearer
I find the subtleties in things much clearer
if I can look through them with someone else
I don't want to spend all my time sleeping.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
List #3
10 reasons why my dog is the most amazing dog, and trumps your dog:
1. She is pretty, she has a pretty name, and the softest coat of luscious lovely blonde dog hair that is velveteen and soft a wuvable
2. Not only does she appreciate the little things, like having people scratch her ass, but she also eats icicles! ICICLES! She eats them with me, she is cool...
3. She is a magic circus dog who catches marshmallows when you throw them to her. Buhaaa.
4. Because she is magic, she can also talk, unlike human babies, making her more important than offspring!
5. She is humongous, she is as tall as my hip and weighs almost 90 lbs. And she is only 2.
6. Not only is she is a man magnet, she is also an attention whore.
7. She allows the kittehs to sleep with her.
8. She is the best puddle jumping companion.
9. When I'm sick, she sneaks (which is hard for a girl her size) andcurls up chipmunk style with me.
10. She has mastered the "come and get me" look. Especially when she is carrying something dead. Mmmmm.
1. She is pretty, she has a pretty name, and the softest coat of luscious lovely blonde dog hair that is velveteen and soft a wuvable
2. Not only does she appreciate the little things, like having people scratch her ass, but she also eats icicles! ICICLES! She eats them with me, she is cool...
3. She is a magic circus dog who catches marshmallows when you throw them to her. Buhaaa.
4. Because she is magic, she can also talk, unlike human babies, making her more important than offspring!
5. She is humongous, she is as tall as my hip and weighs almost 90 lbs. And she is only 2.
6. Not only is she is a man magnet, she is also an attention whore.
7. She allows the kittehs to sleep with her.
8. She is the best puddle jumping companion.
9. When I'm sick, she sneaks (which is hard for a girl her size) andcurls up chipmunk style with me.
10. She has mastered the "come and get me" look. Especially when she is carrying something dead. Mmmmm.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
wind chimings
Breeze by Apollo Sunshine
Theres a silent hill, laid in with subtle dew and straight green stems of grass cropped close to the the hill's scalp. If you look below these beams of green there is a fishnet stocking woven with silver beads and the gunmetal gray of the Earth below.
Upon the ground I set some of the most prized possesions in my house. There the crystal bowl from my grandmother's house that has sat on my piano until it collected an inch of dust. There is a black bear skull. Set along side there is a quilt that was made for me with my name. There is my coffee table book about hummingbirds and the pink pearl necklace I made for myself when I was thirteen. An ancient guitar and a newly tuned piano, sinking somewhat into the fresh Earth. A tiny carved quartz figurine of a donkey that my mom gave to me. Theres a shotgun, my collection of seashells, the pencil drawing that my great grandmother drew. There is an ivory elephant, a bike, a copy of Watchmen.
There's all these things.
I build a house, I call up the plot of Earth along the side of the hill and it builds me a dome encompassed in the thawing green lace of grass. Roses grow and twine the walls in delicate spare vines and wide flowers. The trees make me whicker furniture and cedar boughs create curtains. The wind blows through and settles the slate floor.
Now with a home, I could run around free to the drop of the hills and the billowing sky.
Join me.
Theres a silent hill, laid in with subtle dew and straight green stems of grass cropped close to the the hill's scalp. If you look below these beams of green there is a fishnet stocking woven with silver beads and the gunmetal gray of the Earth below.
Upon the ground I set some of the most prized possesions in my house. There the crystal bowl from my grandmother's house that has sat on my piano until it collected an inch of dust. There is a black bear skull. Set along side there is a quilt that was made for me with my name. There is my coffee table book about hummingbirds and the pink pearl necklace I made for myself when I was thirteen. An ancient guitar and a newly tuned piano, sinking somewhat into the fresh Earth. A tiny carved quartz figurine of a donkey that my mom gave to me. Theres a shotgun, my collection of seashells, the pencil drawing that my great grandmother drew. There is an ivory elephant, a bike, a copy of Watchmen.
There's all these things.
I build a house, I call up the plot of Earth along the side of the hill and it builds me a dome encompassed in the thawing green lace of grass. Roses grow and twine the walls in delicate spare vines and wide flowers. The trees make me whicker furniture and cedar boughs create curtains. The wind blows through and settles the slate floor.
Now with a home, I could run around free to the drop of the hills and the billowing sky.
Join me.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Honey
"I don't care for fancy things, or to take part in the freshest waves."
Along the banks of the river lie
a boy and girl side by side
they watch the lost seagulls fly
inside the rolling pearly sky
along the floodplains the cars drive
in and out of their line of sight
the grass sweeps above them, high
his face is cosmic, blithe
a peaceful place, with the waters high
a boy and girl there do lie
Dear Valentines Day,
I loved that you visited, can you come back soon?
Over the summer I went to Nature Camp as I planned to from the December of last year. It's a tradition that I broke once, but I was so glad to be back that I realized how important it was to go. This summer I didn't expect anything to happen, sure class, bees, rock slides and whirlpools, yes. Boys, no. I got in the first day and signed up for a hike after I unpacked. It was Table Rock. Me, Larry, Madison and Anthony were all in the back. The whole group stayed together the rest of camp. I stayed with Anthony.
Into the second week there was a massive rain shower that lasted half the day. In the mountains the climate is almost a jungle, the rainstorms feel like they will drench you past the protective layer of your skin and if you stand under the roofs at camp it is easy to receive a free, if chilly shower. After one of these torrential downpours the sky finally broke into pink right after dinner. I immediately hauled Anthony to the Office to hunt down counselors for a hike.I had a feeling that there were still low hanging clouds that would drift into the valley. We endured the schleming jokes as they signed us up for the hike. Our hike was small, but we still traveled to First Lookout with the smell of ozone permeating the air like the evening chill that drifts in the mountains.
At the summit we stood and looked out onto one of the most achingly beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. Hand in hand we sat at the bottom ledge feasting upon sherbet skies. If there is a God I feel like that sunset would have been his ultimate work. In front of us McClung mountain rolled up and stretched its ridge along. Sweeping along the valley from the left were slow rolling soft ice gray clouds that drifted slowly out into the warmer air of the lowlands were the rays were pulled into bands, hitting the clouds and erupting into a shiny blaze of pastel pinks, salmons, orange rind, low slung lavender and pearly peach. I can only compare the colors to the mass of Oriental Lilies that grow along our garden and how their colors differ but all grow from a radial point. There is nothing to actually compare it to. That sunset is one of the only sunsets that I can remember distinct aspects of. And I have seen sixteen years of sunsets.
We sat there talking of all the coastal sunsets we had seen and how almost none of them amounted to how beautiful this one was until the sun sank halfway into the rolling Earth. It was pulsing orange now, pulling a purple blanket down across the sky but working in pinpricks of white clouds. Getting up slowly we stared at the sky until we were urged to go back. I'm so glad it was him that I shared it with.
When we arrived back in camp we tried to convey just what we had seen up at Lookout, but evening ceremony had already started and the music drowned out our descriptions. I think then we turned to each other and smiled.
"Honey you are the sea on which I float"
Along the banks of the river lie
a boy and girl side by side
they watch the lost seagulls fly
inside the rolling pearly sky
along the floodplains the cars drive
in and out of their line of sight
the grass sweeps above them, high
his face is cosmic, blithe
a peaceful place, with the waters high
a boy and girl there do lie
Dear Valentines Day,
I loved that you visited, can you come back soon?
Over the summer I went to Nature Camp as I planned to from the December of last year. It's a tradition that I broke once, but I was so glad to be back that I realized how important it was to go. This summer I didn't expect anything to happen, sure class, bees, rock slides and whirlpools, yes. Boys, no. I got in the first day and signed up for a hike after I unpacked. It was Table Rock. Me, Larry, Madison and Anthony were all in the back. The whole group stayed together the rest of camp. I stayed with Anthony.
Into the second week there was a massive rain shower that lasted half the day. In the mountains the climate is almost a jungle, the rainstorms feel like they will drench you past the protective layer of your skin and if you stand under the roofs at camp it is easy to receive a free, if chilly shower. After one of these torrential downpours the sky finally broke into pink right after dinner. I immediately hauled Anthony to the Office to hunt down counselors for a hike.I had a feeling that there were still low hanging clouds that would drift into the valley. We endured the schleming jokes as they signed us up for the hike. Our hike was small, but we still traveled to First Lookout with the smell of ozone permeating the air like the evening chill that drifts in the mountains.
At the summit we stood and looked out onto one of the most achingly beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. Hand in hand we sat at the bottom ledge feasting upon sherbet skies. If there is a God I feel like that sunset would have been his ultimate work. In front of us McClung mountain rolled up and stretched its ridge along. Sweeping along the valley from the left were slow rolling soft ice gray clouds that drifted slowly out into the warmer air of the lowlands were the rays were pulled into bands, hitting the clouds and erupting into a shiny blaze of pastel pinks, salmons, orange rind, low slung lavender and pearly peach. I can only compare the colors to the mass of Oriental Lilies that grow along our garden and how their colors differ but all grow from a radial point. There is nothing to actually compare it to. That sunset is one of the only sunsets that I can remember distinct aspects of. And I have seen sixteen years of sunsets.
We sat there talking of all the coastal sunsets we had seen and how almost none of them amounted to how beautiful this one was until the sun sank halfway into the rolling Earth. It was pulsing orange now, pulling a purple blanket down across the sky but working in pinpricks of white clouds. Getting up slowly we stared at the sky until we were urged to go back. I'm so glad it was him that I shared it with.
When we arrived back in camp we tried to convey just what we had seen up at Lookout, but evening ceremony had already started and the music drowned out our descriptions. I think then we turned to each other and smiled.
"Honey you are the sea on which I float"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
