sometimes

it's the sketchy walk on a lonely block
the insecurities after watching that green grass
the kind that grows brighter on the other side.
that which makes you take a breath and examine
...
...
...
then an old friend showers you with her familiar sunshine
and
it all makes sense again.
cheers to her... a true love indeed.

Contagious

summer is yelling "last call"
So it seems.
And Minutes of rain last for hours.
Trecherous hours
Every drop, a nuisance
Drop
Drop
Mutha Fuckin DROP
..
..
..
Sent on the Sprint® Now Network from my BlackBerry®

heatwave

I'm being drugged by summers air it seems.
Silently, it lifts my skirt, grazing my inner thigh.
Such a soothing passerby, a temporary cure.
wickedly reminding me that my heat is not skin deep.

sunshine

When all else fails, reap the sunshine :)

Tiny things

"You're gonna kill it!"

She yelled at the eager boy who was grasping at the plastic 'habitat'.

"STOP!", she tugged.

The tiny turtle was being swooshed about its tiny world. Peeking out its soft shell, all but the boy underestimated its fragility.

knick-knacks +++

HOME CATALOGUE IMAGE 003

1. precious moments: given to me with a student bible from the mormon, Laurie, who later I dropped acid with.
2. flower boy: gift from sister, who was gratfeul for my copy of Conversations With God
3. small smoking device for tobacco:) recent addition from 1st Ave. shop in NYC.
4. Monkey: Won by Todd with a claw machine thing.
5. Fritz the "Speedy" Frog: First gift from Todd. I was so naive to the relevance. :)
6. Butane: for a lighter I lost
7. stone kitty: gift from brother's hliday.

Taker

MORAL IMAGINATON:
sunny reading by David Bromwich
morality and imagination have something to do with eachother, and both have something to do with the power of human sympathy. Most people would grant that much. Difficulty comes when we try to decide how and where to bring morality and imagination together. ...Morality, we say, is concerned with the real and its objects are actual. Imagination conjures fiction and its objects are, at most, probable: we could believe them real in a world that otherwise resembled our own.

AMOEBA: body without organs
The term ‘body-without-organs’ is borrowed from Artaud to suggest the ‘true’ condition of the human body if freed from the punishments of a repressive God. Deleuze and Guattari remap the fixed biological body as a dynamic force field of speeds and intensities, ‘traversed by a powerful, nonorganic vitality’ which includes the mind. The body-without-organs is ‘affective, intensive, anarchist’ in nature. Like the AMOEBA, it is open to surrounding matter, which it incorporates.

brought to you by mirame, aka mirasol, aka blood_bunny, aka BloodsBunny, aka bunny_cakes, aka claramante, aka mirame xue, who solely follow(ed) the structural set known as Id.

sunshine for breakfast...

with a cup of coffee on the side.

Very nice when all that stands between skin and sun is a hair-tie and a bracelet. My first hamptons getaway. :)

archi-rant

I don't talk about architecture too often here, eventhough it takes up most of my days and all of my reading efforts. (i do need to broaden my horizon with literature and current event reading)

In designing a recent "concept" project it proved apparent that many architects forget about the neccessary handrail. And when i say.. "oh look, we can raise this wall here to make a bench that acts like a rail" or "peel the wall or floor here to make a fluid handrail" .. i get this roll-of-the-eyes-look.

really? that's the best almighty FOA could do? Link

hehe.. always a critic :)

happy [late] anniversary darling

My sweet Susandia.
The date slipped by me.
If things go the way I planned we have one more year together... so let's paint the town red with....

Watermelon & Tomato Salad
4 cups watermelon cut in large dice
4 cups tomatoes cut in large dice
1 cup red onion, thin sliced
1 jalapeno, minced (maybe 2 :))
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Pepper, chili/cayenne powder to taste

mmmmmm

-it's healthy

hands off my fragile wrists

I stand the ground I make
the ground I shake
the ground I break

my flag, my territory
slaved and claimed
by my wilted fingertips

it's mine to keep