Tag Archive: people


who rules the school then..?

a friend of mine is having a fru-klunksy day. she writes and adores punctuation (she probably also likes Proper Capitalization, but that is neither-here-nor-there-zi-toad…#orizit …).
Anyway. This is a quick afternoon poem I jotted down on the Misbehaving Cylon McSmackbook for her.

**********

semicolon

because your day is bad…
you may forget to understand
(that)
words
go
everywhere your feet dance

..they leak from the furniture
-the calming of dilemmas
-magic potatoes
-page turns go quicker

….you gather loose ends.

i don’t think like this -

and i never will.

some people’s punctuation has wings.
some people’s stands still.

but yours carries thinking along,
seducing the parlance;

completing the marathon of a stand-still
if given merely half a chance.

And now, at long last, I shall tell you about Jason Liao, who makes Gorgeous and Fantastic sushi at Nanami Sushi on Brodie lane. I mysteriously say sometimes that I am going for sushi, and sometimes I post photos. And I have my new friend Teri, who I have actually known for years. This is a new story in my life, still in development.

I’ve been thinking about featuring interesting people, once a week or so, in my blog for a while. I love it when people pull me out of my self a little bit with songs, or poems, or sights or smells or tastes.

I wanted to start doing this on Fridays, but I fear for me that it is going to have to be less regimented than that, a bit of a surprise…things have been a little slow this year and I’ve been so stuck in my head. This whole blog is very self-referential.

I get insular sometimes. This is probably because I sit in a little cave for most of the day under headphones, or blog and make lists. I don’t get out much. So we have to take our pleasures and our surprises where we can get them. It’s nice to be pulled out of my head. That’s the thing about me and music, or me and art, or me and food. I have to be hooked in because something relates to me, or reminds me of a piece of music I’m working on, or is relevant to my life, the conversation, the things that are going on in the world. I suppose this is true of everyone though. We are people. And there are our sayings about the way to the heart…

My friend Teri that I knew from high school (this in itself is a long story which is deserving of another blog in and of itself, but here is a picture of us at Fiesta Texas for Referential Purposes) started saying “lets go for sushi” at me a few months ago. She began raving about ‘Jason’s Creations.’ She had actually started kind of a Facebook shrine of photos to him and his oddly abstract sushi art, which at times actually does look somewhat architectural. I once started wondering what it would be like to be a tiny-small dinner person and to hop up on the plate and walk around one of his creations like it was the Guggenheim museum. Sure, yeah… kind of like a smurf, but smaller. I could live in a Nice Fish house. I could EAT a sushi house.. :) I wonder what kind of tiny fish art Jason would make up on the walls out of tiny egg-lets… how it would all explode in my mouth, what other amazing things would happen with just the right applications of the “Sauce Swamps” from the sides of the plate…

I’m digressing now. Sometimes Teri and I go there to talk. We talk to Jason too. He’s very young, but you wouldn’t know it. This is what being an artist does to a person. It gives you a responsibility to the world. His medium, of course, being fish. Your fish. I’m pretty proud enough to be a part of what I am certain in food-and-drink drenched haze is culinary history (have you ever been there?) and figure we’d all better go down to that resturant and eat his food before he ends up on television. I know this is not just drama-den talking later, because Jason is about to get into some chronicle contest and probably win it. Also, apparently attractive naked women let him lay out pieces of raw fish on their bod-s while they lie there motionless. Yes. This really does happen In Real Life, and according to his facebook people have said TO HIM “*YOU’RE* naked SUSHI guy!” This says to me people were noticing the chef and not the naked PERSON with the food on them. This does not surprise me in the least because I’ve almost cried a couple times eating his food. Then again, I am the emo queen.

It’s not always easy. One time he decided it was time for a challenge and we got a fish. It was a difficult salty thing that we had to navigate. We got to choose how much of it to eat. Would we eat all of it or just the easy bits? How daring were we going to be that day? Sometimes we are given more information, sometimes less. After Fish Mountain was scaled, he said he thought we’d eat less of it.

It was surprisingly tasty, and I am a big fan of that feeling of eating partially with your hands as though you are on the beach with the chef, helping to bring the food down. A tiny first world fantasy, perhaps. But if you feel like you are a character on some Romantic Island Show and yet you don’t feel like a prole you are having an intensley wonderful restaurant experience.

Jason gives you instructions while you eat, the more he knows you – the more he’ll get in your sushi business. I was talking to Teri a little too much and we let the grapes thaw once; which was not the intention of the piece. Jason wanted the grapes to go “pop.” That’s how I explained it, with chagrin. I wanted him to know I knew what he was thinking…I don’t even remember the fish he picked. But it was supposed to be accompanied by a cold pop. He’s heaps younger than me, but we are both of the Mindset and you don’t clap in-between movements, you see.

After that, he made this chille relleno scallop soup. There was a pepper hanging around. We are sometimes friendly enough to make him taste his work. He hardly ever does. He’s just imagining it and going on the colors and stuff. That’s right. He doesn’t even know. It’d be like me mixing with no headphones, or just headphones no monitors. Or by just looking at the meters and STILL getting it perfect. He doesn’t even have a test piece.

I really started thinking metaphorically when he made this piece with pears and some other stuff (I’ll just put a picture of it up) that tasted like a cloud. I imagined if you could go out onto the wing of your airplane and see the clouds… just taste them… that it would taste exactly like this dish. I remember being told in school that it wasn’t true that the texture of clouds was fluffy; that when they rubbed together there was friction and this is what made the thunder. Clouds were able to produce snow and water to fall to the ground. There were sharp bits in this dish, and the sweetness of the pear. I usually think that pears are horrible, but they worked here. The fish tasted boob-like (I’m not trying to be vulgar. It was just inviting and smooth…you know, Imaginary-Cloudlike)…

I sound like a crazy person. Then again, the drinks at Nanami get the job done in tasty fashion.

A dish that was smooth and crunchy all at once. Automatically I was caught up in the description of it and for a while forgot my Very Real Problems. I even got to name it.

Theres no way he could know what I’ve been through, but his creations are like tiny messages of encouragement. Of hope. It’s not even a dish at a sushi restaurant any more. It’s an unconscious analysis of a personality. Like when you sit with a hairstylist you’ve been with for years, go sit with him and watch him work and you will be healed.

Maybe it’s because he puts Emotions onto a plate. I told him a couple of days ago that he had gotten “cute” down pat. What do we think of when we think “cute?” Kitties. Hello? Pink… maybe that goes to far. See. It defies description. But a nice apple is perfectly cute.

There was tuna and apples and vinegar.  Just enough. Not too much, but just enough to force a smile from a grumpy demeanor or out of a person who had been Closeted Away for too long. So I ended up smiling and of course left the Decorative Apple Peeling behind to the same god of sushi that we all worship here and waited …for the next offering. :)

[ABOVE: Art by me, Teri Sanchez, Teri Sanchez. Rest of art stolen from Jason's and my facebook pages, and Teri's..

1) Jason makes Art (picture taken for Austin American Statesman Article. Ricardo E. Braziell 2) Warner Sisters 2) The sushi-shark-museum with Citrus Doorway 3) Grapes that go Pop with hidden salty Orange Surprises Inside! 4) the adorable Cloud 9 5) Chef-ly Activity with remote control and good luck kitty.
6) blurry and spicy from Abstract Instagram! 7) Souffle’ 8) Roll with Avocado

ps. I am bad with fish. Remembering it. This is my next step. It’s all too tasty to think! :)

1. I feel better
2. Sorta
3. I have a lot of work to do for a lot of stuffy-stuff-stuff
4. I feel really odd right now (no, as opposed to the normal “odd,” in which I just feel weird; in that I feel Quite Queerly Strange-io, as though something is eerily OFF (and quite possibly amiss )…
5. I have a lot of people that I’m real excited about but for various reasons I must hold back.
6. I have so MANY things that I want to do but for many reasons I don’t allow myself to just do them.
7. BUT
I have things that I am going after. I am a particular sort of person. Yesterday I was working on a blog and I was phrasing it in a negative way. Maybe I will finish it later, in a positive way. Hmm. Because even though the blog was being written for a negative reason, it was about positive influences.

Have a safe day, everybody. :)

ps list.
1. I must get my tags in order!
2. I must begin to link things again!
3. I must become more expedient about how to integrate all my social media and the blogging so that it takes up less time and I can put in more content.
4. I need to figure out how NOT to be so Xondorian about my content that I am putting myself into Awkward Turtle situations.
5. I should forgive myself too. Cuz that’s important.

Morning pages would also be a good idea, as would establishing a nice space in my home both for recording, broadcasting, AND thinking that doesn’t look like it’s been attacked by a Stealth Weasel Militia.

Because they will just GO TO TOWN on your serenity, if you let them.

Oh Spirit or Energy of Influence Over Me,
Please grant me quietness
not to fret about punches that will roll me regardless.
Remove fear so that I may apply true actions to all situations with discretion
and eyes that see to determine these things…
because there are people-sized weasels, and vampires, and zombies, and other
Media Popular creatures eating my brains -
so it’s hard to remember
My Prayers.

-Signed Denise.
the Xondorian.

I’ve got a lot on mind, and I’m very nervous.

I haven’t been a spiritual person. Not in a while. Not since the last time I was quite ill, actually. So it surprised me that tonight, when I am frozen stock still once again in fear and dread and uncertainty … that I actually prayed.

It was particularly ironic on this day.

I have mixed emotions about all that right now. I may explain in more detail at some point. For now I will put my weary head on my pillow, and hope for good dreams, and for what my grandmother used to say, which was “happy face in the morning.”

Yes. I’ll definately take that order of love now please :)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

So.

I met somebody.
He was a strange nomadian from a place which is cold and spiky looking on the maps. On all the globes it’s ridgy under your thumb, so you think there’s prolly lots of cavey places to hide and stuff.

He went into the weird Ginsberg place in my mind. Other boys go there too. An artist friend of my father’s. I made a crack once in a hot tub about François Gilot and Picasso and I was not trying to be cheeky or disrespectful, so I suppose it was not a crack, really. I think I was just observing the way humans are with other humans.

I don’t know. I’m a little odd.

I reached my 5000th tweet today in the Twitter-verse. Perhaps this is a bit ridiculous. Who knows these things?  I wanted to say something significant, rather than just an @ reply that was “@mike_mcalli yes, I’d quite like a taco on your way home, blah-blah-blah” (no, tacos are NEVER insignificant, yes I REALIZE that was borderline blasphemous, I will eat several tacos at the dinner party to make up for this breach…) .)

So I said:

I love you. If you think I might be talking to YOU, I am. It’s EXACTLY why I write songs. &if you know me, you know EXACTLY what I’m saying.

Was I thinking of a specifc person. Yes and no. At that particular time, I was thinking of four specific people, for four different reasons. Mostly because I was in the middle of the fact that they were right in front of my eyes. But I loved all of them.

One was Chelsea. It’s because I just made her a video. She is gorgeous.

One is my husband. It’s because I was tweeting with him.

Well, he’s my husband.

I love Joe, because … well – just LISTEN, okay? :) And you know we can probably get better at it too, given more time and more agreement on things. It takes practice and stuff. Maybe someday we can get it a little more gell-ed or something. He needs to probably sleep more or rest or do whatever it is healthy-wise he needs to do. I can’t say much. I never sleep.

The other is Kevin. I don’t know him nearly well enough yet. I am just tickled though, that Sammy makes videos about him talking to the box-dude. I think it’s perfect. I love that too. I love a lot these days. I loved last night, talking with Travis and Sammy, about this exquisite little short film.

Right after that, Jules tweeted me something, and I thought, wow – that’s how I love her too, because she is so very particular about so many little things and it’s very endearing a lot of times … and then later Caleb said something that day, and I thought of how we talked about the piano. And I tweeted Brett back too and thought of how conscientious he has always been about responding to me and being nice when I am out in the middle of crowds at things, when he has such a crowd of people around him. And how much fun we had just hanging out those couple times and how really oddly quirky he is.

But after tweeting my 5000th tweet and thinking about all these people and also Dave and Alyssa and the 3-Travis-teers as well, and the other people I am constantly in a low-grade state of obsession about … NOT TO MENTION the book I could write on the new people I see and touch around here (!!! – I’ll get to that, MAYBE!!)

… I thought for a long time about what that means to him (we’re back in northern europe with the musician with the loverly echoey vocal now in my meander), as opposed to what it might mean to me. What could it mean to both of us? How could it intersect. What could we possibly have in common. Why was there this odd little rapport? Did we really feel the same way at all about anything? Why did I sneak back into his last gig and sit on the couch right before he went back to Europe? Why did I cry?

I was alarmed to find that he was so much younger than me. I mean, very-truly alarmed.

I think that I actually have a very young spirit. Not young as in the way I just made it sound. I think I am just so very often so surprised at things. So very taken aback. Things often catch me unawares.

I held back this week. I don’t like to get attached to people. I don’t like to need people. I’ve met people before and since. Other people. I meet many people. I love.

I am a lover of love. That is how I am. It does not seem odd to me, to love to the point of distraction. I try to put a cork in it so as not to disturb the peace though.

It’s hot here, in Austin. I wish it would make up its mind. The back of my neck is unpleasantly sweaty and you just can’t go to a dinner party in that sort of condition, once it gets to a certain point.

I think I cried because I do get so very attached to people. And I think it IS because, of what he said to me, in his strange beautiful language, in his facebook message. He hadn’t said it yet.

I think he understands that when it is your lot in life to observe the flow and ebb of human traffic, and comment on it in whatever your fashion – maybe he knows there are certain … feelings that you hold in you and that they are intense. He saw me dealing with them. My pain and my incredulity and my sardonic mocking and my delight. He was encouraging me on all of it with his Sun Ra and his Tim Buckley. And I don’t get that nearly often enough. And now that I find people that do like my “strange consideration”

… I will remember to keep liking it too. Because he told me to keep telling the truth. And people who tell me to keep telling the truth, THOSE people love me.

1. There are actually Several Different taco songs
2. Tacos are not actually my favorite food.
3. I desperately want a Vibraphone. Or a marimba.
4. I can’t whistle in performance situations, because I will laugh.
5. Sometimes if I need to wear socks, and I don’t have matching ones … well … I just DON’T REALLY CARE
6. I’m not a neat person. I’m REALLY MESSY actually. Like not GROSS GROSS messy.

actually, I’m sorta lying. I’m not slovenly-ohcrap-she-needs-to-go-on-a-tv-show-messy … but I cause concern from time-to-time.

7. I don’t really use my Music Theory like I should. And I know a hella lot of it.
8. I don’t like coconut. Or the smell of it as a perfume or a lotion …

… unless it is REALLY hot and it’s sandy and everyone is half naked and oily on a beach and it’s in the form of suntan oil or something. Then, the smell of coconut is okay. But not unless it’s for that. I don’t really like it for cake or anything.

It’s good in rum too.

9. I like questions. Yay questions.
10. I like Dave. :) He beat me in Song Fu. Dave likes me too :) Go read his blog.

11. I don’t like ending on “ten”
12. So on that note, I’d like to say that I am WAAAAY behind on some things. Like sick-sick behind. It’s because I’ve been trying to make some connections with some people. I’ve been trying to be more social. I’ve been trying to crawl out of my little shell, both here online and also at home in real-life. But I have sacrificed working and practice. I still work a lot – but much of my mojo has been lost.

As a result, I’m going to have to gun it on some projects. So if I pop on to the places where I normally do and am not as … prolific as I’ve been, this time I am not avoiding anyone. You’ll see me when you see me and when you do this time I’ll be coming with some results. I’ve just been a little … overwhelmed for a few.

Girls. Chapter 1.

So, there’s this girl, right?

A lot of people know her. I just started to know her. She writes and tweets and is part of the community thing I’ve become totally addicted to.

She likes to dance and she wrote a nifty post and a poem and it hit me in the diaphragm. So I remembered something I wrote. I don’t know why. I also do not know why I am up at 6 in the morning.

Well, yeah I do. I’m up at six in the morning because I’m worried the very large cup with the very small amount of OJ in it that is my career. I’m serious about the OJ. It’s good for you. But it’s a shitty metaphor and I’m dead-dog tired.

Let’s just shake that one off, shall we?

What’s news? Well, I’ve done a track that I’ve done already twice before. This will be the third time that I have done the same project. I literally can’t do this project again. And yet, I will. I have this feeling that I will be recording this track … again. This track that is the bane of my existence. I shouldn’t have looked at it. Shouldn’t have touched it with a ten-footer. And yet I go back and back again. And maybe it will color everything I do here. I don’t know. Maybe I am just tired. But it seems like I’m starting to rack up a track record of misses and ennui. I don’t know. I’ll have to see. Maybe I’m not giving it enough time.

I think there’s something psychological about all this.

I need to figure it out right quick too, because I have real stuff coming up in April. Real live, local stuff which could lead to stuff that I will start getting paid for. That could lead to other stuff which leads to more stuff which leads to stuff which helps me. I can’t afford to get psyched out because I don’t think I’m good enough and I question the way I do things every track.

Anyway. Butt-o’clock in the morning is no time to be pondering these thoughts. About the poem: I should be all dramatic, and leave you with it. I wrote it when I was leaving a sitch that was really trapping me, a few years ago. I remembered it now.

UNFETTERED

When I say “release”
I am not talking of orgasm
I am speaking of the chains fallen
Limp! – Impotent!
to the ground

The soaring, flying phrases of an aria
carrying me away from the detritus
of the expectation
that I will stay in my cage and be quiet
for you

I rub my ankles, I had never been sure
that they were there, that I even
possessed ankles!
No one is standing with a gun at the door
No one is keeping me here
And the sky outside
is blue, with only a few
dark clouds.

1. I’m so glad my friends are here.
2. I’m all speedygonzalez-y when I gotta be. :) :) :)
3. Gum chewing, not as sexy-feeling as I remember in high school … and I’m not so-so-so much good at it.
4. Blowing bubbles, the redeeming factor of gum chewing.
5. The orkin commercial with the {THING THAT SHALL NOT BE NAMED} with the French accent on the motorcycle. Well .. I’m NOT A FAN, folks … not a fan.
6. So glad my friends are here.
7. When you rent hardware, a TIP: don’t lose the software it comes with. Helpful notes to live by, folks.
9. I may paint my toenails later. I may paint them green, in honor of my penpal
10. I’m getting all dizzy and spinny again in the head. This is not a good thing. I think it’s chemical stuff … ahwell.

Okay. I’m back to skulking again. :)

Oh yeah. I have a YouTube channel. Every day I will say something “look at me”-ish about my self. this is it for today. CHECK!

Poodlz & Denouement in Iambic Pentameter (introduction)

So. I was showing people the Godz Poodlz video. Which is very, VERY funny. And in which the Poodlz both look like serious, SERIOUS stud muffins. Or stud donuts. What the HELL is a stud donut? Anyway …

So Rhod Durre (the guy in the glasses we all wish we could get away with who resembles a fighter pilot) just became my 101st FAN ON FACEBOOK today.

This is a BIG FAT HAIRY DEAL because if you know me you know how it has been …

We will take a short break now to celebrate with a tiny celebratory poem :)

This is the beginning of a poem that I actually thought that I was going to try and PUBLISH. Go ahead. Laugh. It’s funny. There is no place to publish a poem that I was going to enter into a contest that was supposed to be kind of like a literary Song Fu and which I did not complete.
I was to write off three prompts. They were Flower, denouement, and something else I can’t remember but that made me think of murder. Or produce. Since everything naturally makes me think of murder, even something like pairs figure skating – I of course thought about murder at the farmer’s market. Because we can’t just go quietly and get our Kombucha Tea, now CAN WE????

I didn’t stop there. No … I wanted to put it in IAMBIC PENTAMETER

TROUBLE AT THE FARMERS MARKET
(a mysterious tragedy)

PAPPIO
I have uncovered tragic tragedy
Among these vegetarian delights
O! Such a shocker as has ne’er been seen

RANDOM MARKET GOER
at least not since last year’s Kombucha fights!

RUFFIO
What say you rabble rouser, what is this
Disturber of treasured organic peace
Although it’s true something is yet amiss
Your un-coolness of energy must cease

PAPPIO
The gentleman, correctly he did shout
And his past truths they cannot be denied
But although although cultured tea was thrown about
Not even one brave market-goer died!

PAPPIO
What say you sir? Is something
now awry?

RUFFIO
Assure you I, good sir, the trouble’s nigh!

It was gonna get really good, I promise you. I was gonna have knives, and a flower poisoning (à la White Oleander, and a thwarted romance, and … and …

But I have a rehearsal at 2 … and the best laid plans of conga players and donuts …

I was going to write this for TMA. It’s a question someone asked about ‘write a story of a song.’ It got a little too personal.

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