Tuesday, March 31, 2009

" jackhammer mornings "


awoken by the incessant pounding of machinery just below my window. duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh...duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh...duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh. and so forth.

it was 7am-ish, and my pleasant dreams of something now remembered as a flurry of marigold and lavender, were dashed and forgotten. i stared confused at my exposed curled hand peeking out from under the covers; it lay listless and apathetic among the folds.

now that it's morning, actual mornings in the way that i rarely experience, i'm making a list of things to do today. have to look for a book there, perhaps purchase a thing at this one store, meet up with a friend to look for something somewhere. my brain is still flexing itself in these hours, but my body is eager to engage the world.

making plans. always must to make plans. plans for escape, plans for arrivals, plans for food, and friends, and organization. a plan for something at least once a day, and a plan to go to sleep every night.

the sky is a clear and wistful blue, aching for some cloud, any cloud, to interfere within its wide expanse of longing.


mars 30:

mars 31:


Sunday, March 29, 2009

" butt stripes, and other woes of riding your bike in the rain drunk "


i guess there's no other woes per se, excepting the rain in your face, hard and to the annoyance that wearing eyeglasses brings to forward momentum.

if your bicycle doesn't have those rain-guard mudflaps, well then your butt will get wet from the dirty street-water defying gravity and flowing upward from the tires and all over your pants, bag, and pride.

your shoes will get wet from the rain coming down, the water splashing back at you from the front tire, and from the water deflecting from the frame splashes.

it's actually quite the liberating experience, once when fully wet, and ultimately disregarding the need to stay in any form of dry and/or warm. so, as i was almost nearing home last night, soak to the bone, tipsy and filled with deliciousness, i could see how these innate pleasures could derive from momentary miseries.

tonight's homework:

defy the weather patterns of the planet and don't be afraid to get your clothes wet; they'll eventually dry off, and you'll move on.



Saturday, March 28, 2009

" come forward spring, you saucy harlot "


it smells like spring outside. i can smell it.

i always thought that perhaps i might purchase a pair of those seasonal affected disorder light-glasses, because the lack of warmth and sun over a long period of time was starting to get unbearable.

but lo and behold, the first scent-hint of a season shows its pair of legs, and i'm going to go out and greet them.


mars 27:

mars 28:


Thursday, March 26, 2009

" i want to cook you a soup that warms your soul "


your phone rings loudly and you wake up in the afternoon in a jostle. when you go to answer it, the caller is already gone.

you hope for a nice sunny spring day, and you get a shifting constant dappled rainfall, which washes and swishes along the street as vehicles drive by.

hours of email, hours of staring at screens, hours of gameplay. when will any hint of a payoff come along if you're always sitting at home "working?" but it's wet out, and besides that, you don't have any cash for the subway fare.

even though your room seems to be piling up with clutter, papers and loose mail un-filed, random articles of clothing not quite ready for wash strategically sandwiched in the crevices next to the pile of bags and equipment, bowls unwashed, cups of water empty, deep sighs and electrons abound, you just can't muster up enough optimism and verve to clean today.

the bells from the church adjacent rings clear and loud over multiple municipal sirens and the rains and the winds. nothing is particularly wrong, but then again, nothing feels particularly super awesome.

another day at home, another bowl of soup, cold feet, cold fingers, warm heart.

another long slow journey from day into night.


mars 25:

mars 26:


Tuesday, March 24, 2009

" the grapes of wrath "


five things that happened today:

1) listened to WNYC and realized that the world is in turmoil at all times.

2) made a 3-egg omelet, some rice, and a pan of roasted vegetables with mozzarella cheese all over it.

3) made a decision that may send me to another country really really soon, or not.

4) went to a special event at the MOMA after hours, to check out the upcoming exhibit called "into the sunset." it was rad, but there sure were a lot of rich people just there to be fashionable and be seen and not actually check out the photos.

5) drank two johnny walker red label whiskey & cokes 45 minutes apart from each other. they were super strong, and even with the timed pause (to check out the photos), i was tipsy all the way home.

tonight's homework:

think about the past, live for today, plan for tomorrow.



Monday, March 23, 2009

" we're almost there "


three things unrelated:

1) got my flash back today form the repair facility. it took a total of 17 days from mailing it out for it to return to me. it works fine, but cost me more than half the cost of it to repair.

2) finally got a taste of a banh mi vietnamese sandwich from the new Hanco's, that a few sources have talked much about. my mini review goes like this:

- the cost is $6.50 for most of the sandwiches, which is almost 2X the cost of my banh mi anchor in chinatown. that sort of made me sigh.

- it took about 10 minutes to get the sandwich, but since this location is in park slope, in the old tea lounge spot, it still remained cozy and cushy, although the music was 'musak' and the lighting scheme was like it was closing down for the day.

- the size of it was comparable to other banh mi i've had; it was about 6 inches. coulda been bigger, or would be a little whet-your-appetite expensive (comparatively) treat.

- the pickled daikon & carrots, as well as the cilantro and peppers were fresh. the pickled veggies were thinner and sort of sweet.

- the baguette was warm and had good spongy give to it, which was nice, but wasn't as the french say "croustillant." so yeah...there was that.

- the pork was savory and had a good mouthfeel, but felt more like ground beef or a juicy less sloppy sloppy-joe.

my friend lauren dug it, but they managed to bewilder both of us by serving her thai ice tea that was brown, then said that it was thai ice tea. we were both confused. in the end, as patrick put it, "oh well...it'll do in a park slope pinch i guess." indeed.

3) it was an average of 43° today. now, at the very end of the day, it's a shivery 34° and i'm wearing a 700-fill north face jacket in my room. i can't feel my fingers or toes, and the winds are causing the windows to quiver and flex.

the daughter of the family that lives on the first level came up to tell me that tonight, there will be no heat due to a broken hot water boiler. "it'll be fixed by tomorrow," she said, but i'm not sure that it actually makes a difference, as i usually never feel the benefits of the radiators' heat, unless i'm up at 5am in a sweaty mess.

i'm just sort of indifferent i suppose, because it's not really the cold that bothered me, but the fact that there never is a 'happy-medium' temperature that exists in my room. either too hot or too cold is so normal, that just look to the oncoming spring to smooth out and reconcile these extremes.



Sunday, March 22, 2009

" nothing wrong with adventure "


the outside world is still fascinating. there are still places to go to, to look at, to see things there. go go go.

isn't it funny how you always want more. more around the corner, more scoops of free mac & cheese, more tipple, more and more and more until there's nothing left.

ride your bike, ride the train, ride your shoes with your feet in them to someplace new.

no time like the present, until you find out that the present is moving away from you, and you're still standing there like a goob. click them heels and get to it; there's still time yet.


mars 21:

mars 22:


Friday, March 20, 2009

" night & day, day & night "


i could never use a sketch book as a kid. i would draw on desks with pencils, the sidewalk with chalks, in newspapers and books with crayons and pens, and on woodscraps with paints.

whenever trying to focus all of that creative energy on a blank page in a sketch book or a pad of paper, i'd always get a blank. my perfection-prone style wanting to start in blue pencil instead of pen as per usual.

not oddly enough, i'd never draw anything of (self-imposed)worth inside of any of these books, and everything of substance and satisfaction could be found on scraps of paper and masterful strokes in my doodles on lined papers.

it's the lack of that permanence that freed me from the pressures of creationing. so now i'm surrounded by envelopes of doodles and scraps, teeming with beautiful and creative pieces, and a multitude of sketch books that only have a few pages half-done in tedious implementation.

i'm going to try to remove the sketchbook mentality from my life, and strive to doodle my way though these times. you can take my timid blue pencils, i'm working with broad brushes and black inks.


mars 19:

mars 20:


Wednesday, March 18, 2009

" 58° for my soul "


man oh man oh man,

come bright sun, come overcast hazy clouds,
come birds, come park lawns,
come rain showers, come walking out of doors.

spring is finally putting on some shoes and taking a walk.



Tuesday, March 17, 2009

" hits & misses "


the things that happened today:

- woke up from a dream to a phone call from my mom at 11:34am

- got two emails that set the tone; one telling me that my federal tax refund was directly deposited into my account, and one telling me that i had not won or placed in another photography competition. it was a strange sucker-punch.

- followed the iphone OS 3.0 liveblog like a nerd.

- ate two slices of pizza for brunch at 3-ish pm.

- watched about 13 trailers online.

- moved into the living room cause it was too cold to sit and be in my room.

- drew a bunch of drawings just to draw.

- watched eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, and loved remembering what makes love so worth it.

- realized that as soon as i get going, day is already turning into night, slow and lovely.



Monday, March 16, 2009

" look to me there "


when will i see you there,
at that junction?

how will i ever know?
how will i ever know?

there's no need for a set time.
just an intent.

or finding the proper sutures to
sew all of the splices up.

or finding the path to walk down,
while stopping often for an
intermittent pause.



Sunday, March 15, 2009

" and look what all happened to you "


lulling along a sunday afternoon.
one phone call taken, one call missed.
nothing's the same, and nothing's changed.

soon to be a monday morning.
the heart remembers, the body laments.
no one's home, and no one's here.

minutes to go before the night shifts into day.
one decision made, one thought set aside.
no need to panic, no need for alarm.


mars 13:

mars 14:

mars 15:


Thursday, March 12, 2009

" when do you fathom becoming a coat checker? "


it's getting brutal out there.

remember when we all said that when the new year comes, things'll be different. when it's a fresh start, a wide open path of opportunities, of pathways unexplored, and of new beginnings?

i'm not sure if i'm doing the very best i can, but apparently i'm overqualified to be a data entrant. DATA ENTRY! is this the universe telling me that i'm destined for bigger better things, or that i am not fit to enter data?

i may be looking into being a coat checker for the museum where i'm a photographer on a freelance basis, and is that okay? just to get some money coming in?

temp agencies, unpaid internships, dead end shitty jobs that you don't want to do.

is it better to fight for these jobs now, just because that's what in the air, or should i just sit at home and continue to photo edit my dream into reality?

lots of sighs today.


mars 11:

mars 12:


Tuesday, March 10, 2009

" shoulder weight "


took the day yesterday to do my taxes. there's nothing like the feeling of your taxes being done. nothing.

okay, a great many things feel like that sort of relief, but this time, yesterday, it was a great weight off of my shoulders.

now what other great weights can i cast off my shoulders? let's see what i could do:

work search/find? check.

stock photo upload? check.

website cleaving and redesign? check.

bike riding until i'm not 182 lbs. anymore? so check.

check check check check check.

after breakfast today though, i still feel pudgy. but i'm reeling with at least the fact that my taxes are (pending any other issues) done.

tonight's homework:

check some ole things to do off of your checklist!


mars 9:

mars 10:


Sunday, March 08, 2009

" tease me, tease me "


damn you spring. are you trying to make me crazy?

slinking in and around the corners and in the shadows. way to pop out for the last few days and make my knees feel all old and creaky. i really enjoyed that.

maybe what you could do is just be present. stand up, stand out. don't worry, no one is going to be mad at you. maybe just a little perturbed that you took so long playing hide and seek with our hearts.

i'm sort of over wearing four layers and gloves and boots. i'm not going to turn into that spring flip-flopper like i saw on the subway yesterday. i just want to ride my bike without a scarf, go on a walk without three pairs of socks on, and perhaps hang out on the roof?

could you put in a word with old man winter and see if he's ready to take a breather in the seasonal lodge rocking chair? i'll send him some beef jerky if he's less crotchety next year.

so come on out spring; we're ready to play.


mars 6:

mars 7:

mars 8:


Thursday, March 05, 2009

" yo, milk is messed up! "


so i lived in thailand for a couple years and some a few years ago. in that time, i began a switch from cow's milk to soy milk. it was fresher and available in the morning, hot and cheap. when i did drink milk milk, it was not bad, just i had to go into a supermarket to purchase the cartons, rather than in a bag on the street in between points A & B.

since i've been back in the states, i've continued to drink soy milk, then rice dream, then as of late, the Trader Joe's version, known to all as "rice drink." while silly, it tastes delicious and does a good job of remaining a pseudo-creamy silky texture, without purporting to actually be a textural replacement for milk milk.

now, for the past couple days, i've found myself doubled over with pain from stomach gurgles that pack a punch to the gut. i bought a gallon of non-fat milk from key foods, and have been trying to drink a cup a day.

ouch ouch ouch it's not working. or is it? the first cup a couple days ago made my stomach so angry that i was in the restroom for the longest tiiiiiime. not quite poetic, but you realize just how fragile not only the outside of humans are, but the inside as well.

yesterday i drank a glass of milk; about 12 oz. the flavor was fresh and a little sweet. well, sweet in that way that milk is without being actually sweetened. nothing happened intro-gastronomically until 4 hours later. the same deal, but with more confidence that tonight's glass of milk may be absorbed and processed a little easier.

i don't want to be another one of those asian kids that can't drink milk milk. i mean, what is ice cream? i ate a fair amount of that when i was fiscally viable. so damn milk milk's hold on my guts' sadness. i'm goin' for it, and there's nothing that's stopping me.

(if you don't hear from me soonly, call me and make sure i'm not in a milk-induced coma. thanks)


mars 4:

mars 5:


Tuesday, March 03, 2009

" muddled clarity "


you see how everyone is a familiar stranger. we smile and preen, shine and delve. say our hellos and are on our way. family, friends, and others. in the end we're all just as alone as we are together. and how to feel, act, or react to such a thought.

it's as if there are two trees representative of my strength, grounded, solid, and stretching out into the universe. it's as if there is a vast open sky with numerous possibilities. and it's as if my branches will never reach that vast sky.

amidst cosmic radiation and intergalactic clutter, there appears a lone line which cleaves the sky of possibilities in two, bringing down to earth some wisps of hope yet.

and to see what is possible, really possible, means to ride this line from the base of those trunks through those outstretched branches and into the ether. how can something so clear at all times, be so hard to grasp?

...and another day is over.



Monday, March 02, 2009

" twelve inches of snow in my heart. "


it straight snowed inside of my room last night
like snowed through the screen
it was weird

Your window being open made my room the world's coldest place this morning
and caused some weird, constant door-rattling action all night

that's what ------ said too


in the room

So much snow

it was so lovely though
before having to deal with it
soft fluttery billowing


mars 1:

mars 2: