happy christmas [birth.renewal]

a perfect morning of azure ray [safe and sound. and displaced]. loads of snow. i cannot even see the road outside of the house or any of the ground. inches and inches of perfect sky, falling. a beautiful morning of reflection and sound. pieces of my selves finding themselves again. letting go of nothing. noting the wants and desires that stir and stand alone. they never withstand such pressure to disperse. they never withdraw from the race. they wet themselves with anticipation. and grow. grow. grow.

xokg.

all in the family.

we are pretty much a walking tv show. i'm not sure how we do it or how we find each other but pairs of siblings pretty much rule. having shots of tequila before grocery shopping rules too. playing pool and dancing to garth brooks? yep more ruling. i will let pictures show you the story that was sunday december 16th in new york city. yes yes yes texas has been forgiven and everyone is all in love again. i credit christian's homecoming for this.

the rest of the weekend deserves it's own blog and will be forthcoming [um dancing at posh, yes it's a gay bar and yes i still got hit on, scott's cowboy shot and other insane antics, moving to brooklyn and more...coming soon].

we discovered that grocery shopping is more fun with friends [the shot of tequila helped too i'm suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuure]:









cutest older siblings EVER? yep. right here. christian and shannon. they win.




and we're just cute.






sometimes i try to be a hater but it just never works. i love michael. mwahaha. :) mostly cause he puts up with me not being able to play pool at all and sings gb with me and drinks beer almost as fast as me and pretty much laughs at or at least puts up with me even when i am absofuckinglutely annoying and spastic. exhibit a:






there are many reasons to love just a little bit of everything when you are at doc holiday's. the pretty people, my favorite person ever [meridith]. the jukebox. the pool table. the pbr. buck hunter. on and on and on i go. here's just a random sampling:

















that's all for now folks.
lovers you. big surprises coming up. stay tuned.
xoxokg.

loss.

loss: the way breath can catch. absurd notions. erasing fine lines of pleasure. the way in which i move in opposition to thought. in dire regret. in falsities of surety. all that i have felt...in strict confidence, in necessity, in aggregated obscenity. i catch myself again and again. falling into this. shallow pool of lust. regret. forgiveness only just beginning. the acute pain of loss. slowly lifting. but remaining, none the less apparent. your skin. still shining...strong memory.

patience.

patience.
not a virtue i've ever been much good at.

silence.
i'm even worse.

but these days.
i must.
and i'm learning. how letting go, makes me the master of both.

space.

i have taken the time to place myself. consistently out of view. decidedly distant. i have begun the steps that will take me out of range. that will enable me to feel again. every instance. each sentance. all of the movement. inside this head.

i am able. to hold a space. ever expansive. mouth agape at the sound that it makes. holding you. always, in view.

why new york is the most insane city ever

i am going to do my best to remember it all. i should have taken more photo's. for now. let's begin.
[i am still laughing. and i'm pretty convinced i am some kinda zombie as i only slept about 2.5 hours and i am awake and actually productive? yeah...]

friday night.
jonezetta!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
so excited your show was sold out at the knitting factory. so glad we got to sneak in. you made girl night so much fun.

doc holiday's?
well i fail and am no longer in charge of girl night because of you.
thanks.

saturday night. oh my my my. let's just say...i revisited and rekindled my love for iggy's. danny and i had welcome to nyc time. pirate mike was working. and stretch showed up. who knew?

then i headed over to julep. ummmmm. all i know is that if you look closely at these next two photo's you might get an inkling as to what was really going on.





nice. uhmmm. shirts. dan!

if i had enough photos we could go through the whole progression. it was like fashion week all in one night. ps. this shirt does not belong to him. i will give you one clue as to who really owns it. loooooook clooooosely.





and yes it's true he likes to go into the bathroom and put on women's clothes [i witnessed this with my own eyeballs!] and yes i still love this kid [ssshhhhh it's a secret.]



and purely for my own enjoyment and because she does not remember putting on the shirt of her friend/boss's boyfriend i am posting this [sorry mer but i have to!]



highlights of the night include: jeffe. you were just freakin hilarious!!!!!!!!!! and dan. i like philosophizing about music/living and my dating life [or wonderful lack thereof] in the middle of a crazy dive bar with bad hip hop on, your friends cross dressing and mer taking more shots than she was allowed. we are all one big happy family again and that makes me happy!!! :)

sunday.
oh sunday.
sunday
sunday
saunday funday
how i love you always

now i must admit i miss shannon and kimberly terribly [duran duran and opening night at cirque du soleil that's all i'm going to say!] but oh man...last night!? doc holiday's?!

i know this bar is one of the most silly places ever and you are bound to see all kindsa crazy gypsy-ness but really? all of that really happened last night?

i mean...one guy thought it was open mic night. he pretty much set up his electric guitar and played [or tried to play] pink flyod all night. huh? cut it out man. the country music is depressing enough. you were not helping.

ok. stunts at the bar. danny was trying to rocket launch himself.



pbr and text messaging pretty much always rules the night.



now. i'm really going to try to preface these next pictures with some witty banter and explanation. but basically. there were some obscenely drunk people at this bar [big surprise i know]. but this night was special. well...HE was special. if i must summarize the night in one mere photo well this is it. this is the big winner. here you go. are you ready for this? really? ready? brace yourself:



his name is joe and yes he is attempting some strange acrobatic where he lifts his foot onto the bar while staring at us and i think talking in some barely intelligible gibberish.
it got even better when too lovely ladies came in and one decided that she would claim him as her own for the evening. it was definitely inappropriate.
let's just have a moment of silence now:





about this time in the night i check out. i head uptown. but ummmmm. i got locked out. so after wandering around 90th street listening to stg blaring in my ipod and almost crying cause i had to pee so bad. yep. i hoped back on the subway and returned to the scene. danny had returned as well. and we basically had to rock paper scissor over meridith. being homeless i won. almost had a mini meltdown. then continue with the evening. danny rules. and not just because he was my bathroom escort. [i will definitely live if i never see the inside of the men's bathroom at doc's again thank you very kindly].

in case you were wondering. we rule.



in case you thought that was all oh you're wrong.
the best part of the night was trying to decipher the words of the man next to me who had just sliced his own tongue. yes. apparently the day before he decided he wanted to split his tongue. apparently i have missed out on this new trend. i am just not cool anymore it's really sad. in any case. wow. good luck with that man. sorry you can't taste anything or talk without a lisp anymore. oh and thanks for the offer but ummm no thanks.

anyone wonder why i am single in nyc...?

why i have the best life ever.

seriously. life fucking rules. i can laugh harder than i ever have in a LONG time and cry all in the same day and it still rules. i am surrounded by the most beautiful supportive fabulous friends a girl could ever ask for. i am going to do my best to summarize this weekend. brace yourself.

friday night was team kim break-out. meridith and danny came to my rescue. we packed up everything i own in about 20 minutes, convincing the apartment building tenents that we were ransacking the apartment i'm sure. totally funny to throw your own stuff into bags like a burglar. turns out i'm pretty smart cause i was living with a borderline psychopath and just found out phew. go me. go life. woot woot.

being picked up in a black escalade and escorted uptown RULES. showing up and expecting to carry all the goods up three flights cause the elevator's broken... yeah....well....the nice men servicing the building at that hour [seriously who works at 7pm on a friday?], well they moved all my stuff for me. and i got to ride in a pitch black elevator with a man i didn't know and no door watching the red paint soaked walls that looked like blood. pretty much a scene out of a scary movie except it's really my life and it's actually quite funny instead.

the great escape!





i love these men:




dawn rules. bars on the upper east side with smokin hot bartenders rule too. pizza and beer and pj harvey rule. there's a lot of ruling going on. you better get into it.

saturday shannon and kimberly arrive from los angeles. we go shopping. which included gucci and champagne for breakfast. the girls go to duran duran and i attempted to hibernate. this was until i received an s.o.s from downtown. dude. let's just put this out there. if you are mean or dare i say even an asshole to my best friend...please do not think you can still be my friend. please?! ok thanks. shannon and kimberly show up. they are DRUNK. meridith is often my reason for living and saturday was no exception. i like to take her boyfriend and show him off to strangers and feel quite awkward but laugh about it all the same. apparently i also like to hang out with boys from texas that i shouldn't. more on that later. i must say it was really nice to be the least drunk in the group. i didn't even embarrass myself! go team!




danny i'm posting this because your face says it ALL!!





sunday. aweeeeeeeeee sunday.
sunday funday.
how i love thee.

i don't think luke had any idea what he was in for but he took a chance and met up with us. blind tiger. you are the reason i go to the west village. i love you. and your grilled cheese and tomato soup and your bloody beer. and your plentiful taps. universe i love you for bringing heidi to the bar. because it's pretty amazing to have someone i know from los angeles who i haven't seen or talked to much in 6 months just show up at the bar i'm at. cause to have 8 million people in one city but randomly run into one you know...well it's just pretty awesome.

oh yeah dawn rules:



and luke really likes kimberly's iphone:



thank you my new indian man friend who sells me tara incense and makes it tolerable for us to hang out in a bar that smells like dead rat. it's a true testament to how much we all love meridith that we were able to stomach that. it probably has something to do with chocolate cakes shots. i'm just saying.

kinda love her cause she's a sheriff:



danny when you dived under the pool table and came out the other side i thought for sure i would die from laughing. and thanks for trying to dance with me. we are obviously two girls. that didn't work so well. but it was fun trying.



by this point in the night we have divided into team kim and 'the rest of the bar'.

team kim:


there was really no contest. we win. having 10 of your best friends all in a bar on the same night listening to garth brooks and johnny cash RULES. i mean RULES. life rules. friends rule. everything rules. dawn and jeff it was so good to see both of you. luke is now officially in our family and one of my new favorite people. every time you make that deniro face i just bust out laughing. and your red cheeks say it all.






danny. day 3 in nyc and you fit right in. shannon. oh the shannon show. i love my sister. kimberly. i'll say it again. i am only pretty because of you ;) thank you for my haircut. and for dancing with me in your underwear. and for basically being one of the coolest people i know. gerry. oh gerry! you are one of my favorite drinking buddies. you rule at life. texas? i think you know what we think of you. you're out. i like rocks.

the end.

stars.

i can’t see. the color of skin. blinding me. forgotten the ways of sound and your face. forgotten the taste of love on my limbs. alive this weight of the world. standing so near to me. the fortunate light bursting through. the sky unable to hold me. the stars aching with their pull. their lasso. their final attempt to stand down and let loose…my final disgrace.

clean.

fill my mouth with stars
animosity overridden
with guilty pleasure
the space between your eyes
haunting...
the width of your fingers
etched inside me
the length of your face
still near.

in all these memories
a truce
in knowing
the state of emergency
has long since healed
the wait of such mystery
long ago fulfilled.

i'm
moving
in
synch
with
the
weight
of
water
stilling
my
skin.

gush time [the editors.]

music. it's been mulling around in all shapes and forms these days. what's good. what's decent. what's life changing earth shattering. what's not just total and utter bullshite. standing outside of piano's this weekend amid a gang of uk hipsters running amok to see gawd only knows who...i was pleasantly surprised by the conversation i overheard. not too-cool kids discussing their love of some overrated band that we will all forget about next month...oh no. they were discussing their disdain for all the 'funny music' being produced. now this is truth. so much of what is hitting the lines these days is quite simply comedy. it's like, how many more times do i need to see a band in their underwear dancing on stage and talking about bubble gum or washing dishes with their mom or repeating the same line over and over again but backing it with a danceable beat so now it's ok and justified to put out on a cd and put on live shows???

i'm so glad i'm not the only one bored by this...[yes i was beginning to worry]

now the kim moment. and what brings me to my need to post today.

the editors.

when first listening to their new album 'the end has a start' i had the same immediate reaction i had to interpol [ugh, joy division rip off]. last week i downloaded the album since my good and trusted friend has been raving about it [hi, i have oh maybe 2 friends whose music taste i trust and when they speak i listen...]. first song comes on, [ugh, interpol rip off]. now i guess i should clarify that i went on to fall in love with interpols second album and took back every sly remark made against them. perhaps with bands such as this it takes two albums. in any case. the editors. holy fucking god dammit beautiful. finally. music that is heady, inspired, dark and morose dealing with the fear of survival and the mysteries and pains tied to death and the horrors occurring every moment in this world right now. and the sheer uplifting beauty that comes from living with, in and through it. it is neither depressing nor distracting. it is honest. painful. and gorgeous.

i can't stop listening.

have some. please. put on your headphones and if you are not convinced try again in a week. i swear. it will own you.


put your head towards the air
&
well worn hand

[i'd also like to shout out kitchenware records their small uk label. see...it really can work!!]

love and lifted. xokg.

you do what you do

only in new york. i have found you....the most amazing bar/speakeasy/restaurant i've ever been in. i don't want to tell you the name but go to 6th st in the east village and find the wooden door that weighs 100 lbs to open and enter. there are no windows. do not be afraid. get the first drink on the menu, the jalapeno infused tequila with lemon and strawberry puree. watch the long process it takes to make drinks. admire the men in ties and vests. and nina and frank on the stereo. be so happy to be in such a gloriously romantic and yet hip spot that is utterly chill and relaxed. heaven. thank you new york.

i have a plan and so many words to say. but not now. the appearance of so many old friends and loves and nights warm my heart. i hope you all can come visit. i think i've only slept alone about 4 nights since moving into my new place...so many visitors. keep it coming. now if i could just master this whole work/day/play/night/go-out-every-second-i'm-alive-in-manhattan attitude and not get sick we'd be golden.

life is so good it makes my tongue hurt.

oh yeah and ending up at random hip hop events with chi-town jess is just classic. nothing like mc's/dj's and loads of people wearing old school ray bands with neon sides and even more people wearing their glasses without any lenses in them. wow. flava-flav would be so proud! when the serious hip-hop was ending they started mixing in g-n-r. at this point i started shaking my head...it was time to go. lovers you chicago peeps. xoxo.

pj harvey : beacon theatre

thank you
thank you
thank you
thank you

pj.

thank you.

[rebirth.]

seasons.

today i am missing the seasons that no one is privy to. the changes of the interior. the paths i have tread. the road i am wandering now, traced by fate and the lingering lives i have left behind. it seems everywhere i turn today there are reminders. of moments of simplicity. when i made careless decisions that have lead me to this place. into this space where everything i own and everything i am is all that i want and need. and yet i have given up so much. so many. and this innocence now gone, scratches at my limbs. i have caved in. and now i must face my sins with bowed head and palms bleeding. i miss my beautiful friends. i miss the bridge that holds solid these dreams. the forest that was always able to witness my rebirth. the desert that gave me movement and healed my head. i want the moment i gave myself away to erase. i want my hands to fold steady once again. i want the stupidity of growing pains to lessen the weight now straining my heart. without the wings surrounding me now i would not be breathing. in a space such as this with no home no love no standstill i continue. i must. because if i gave up everything i love...it's got to be for something. it's got to be for this. [i am steps away from it. inches before my face. i can taste it. let this be the last leg of the race...]

xx.kg.

and now......what i do best!

today, while enjoying my food and beverage from the deli next door i will attempt to do what i do best. explain in grandiose detail the excitement that is my life. and i will do this without ever giving away the secret truths that are really at the heart of me. i've got mad skills.

doc holiday's. once again you have provided ample entertainment and a fertile playground for all things new york. my new partners in crime, narnia and golf digest [names changed to protect their identity], have been converted to lovers of DH as well. meridith i love you. what a beautiful way to end a crazed maniacal day... dwayne. i think you saved my heart just a little bit last night. it was quite a day. one in which every great saga of my life was coming to a head. meetings were had. a letter was written and appointments were made. the letter wasn't sent. you convinced me to wait. maybe it's not worth it. maybe it doesn't matter. all i know is that you understand the pain that comes with this. and you let me know it was okay to do nothing. maybe that was just the alcohol talking. but between the advice and the Foreigner tour schedule from 1978 that you handed to me...i was a pretty happy
kim-chee last night.

i fail for not having my camera. i also realize i'm about 2 months behind on the paparazzi page [sorry kids]. the update will come soon.

mysterious bruises really are the defining factor of a great night out. [thanks for pointing this out navani.]

and now for my encore i will simply stop writing this blog by stating the obvious and well known fact that coffee is a miracle drug that i love to consume in large quantities and will continue to do so for the rest of my life. amen.

standing 5 feet from 11 humongous speakers

i was 3 feet from the stage and about 5 feet from a wall of speakers. i can't really hear right now. but i sang and danced and jumped with my keys hanging from my pocket [sorry shannon]. banquet. blue light. modern love. i don't know your names but you are one of my favorite bands. bloc party. thank you for madison square garden tonight. thank you for bringing sounds to make me move and forget thought for an hour and a half. you know how much i love you but....you just weren't all there tonight. me thinks you like london. perhaps sitting in your flat writing and drinking and singing and tweaking. the cute lil bass player...i thought he might start yawning. poor guy looked like he wanted nothing more than to be curled up with his wife at home. and emo guitar man? i like how your hair covered all your face but you were more than shy. the only expression you ever betrayed was a 1/2 second wave at the end of the night. now mr drummer man. you were kinda into it. you got us clapping a few times. and handed out your drum sticks and water bottles at the end of the set. i think you were happy to be there. and well thank god for you singer/guitarist/savior of my soul at times. if you hadn't asked us to sing along, let us have a solo during blue light and ran a lap around the entire theatre during the encore i might have forgot this was a rock show. bottom line and truth be told...you were all beautiful. honest. i love you. i didn't feel my soul being ripped out and reassembled as i do when i see matthew, chris and dominic. but not everyone can do that. and well...your cd's are so beautiful that i forgive you for everything. thank you nyc for another amazing evening.
xokg.

a perfect song.

this is one of the most perfect songs i have ever heard in my life. i'd like to thank jennifer glass for covering it a few months back and bringing it to life. i must confess i was quite bored and not paying attention when i saw this band perform with martha wainwright last year... :)
your instructions: download. play. repeat.

You Could Be Happy [snow patrol]

You could be happy and I won't know
But you weren't happy the day I watched you go
And all the things that I wish I had not said
Are played in loops till it's madness in my head

Is it too late to remind you how we were
Not our last days of silent screaming blur
Most of what I remember makes me sure
I should have stopped you from walking out the door

You could be happy, I hope you are
You made me happier than I've been by far

Somehow everything I own smells of you
And for the tiniest moment it's all not true
Do the things that you always wanted to
Without me there to hold you back, don't think, just do

More than anything I want to see you grown
Take a glorious bite out of the whole world

loss

i know this feeling [numb]. this hollow pit of stomach. the pain of a year unfolding. the inability to speak, to think elsewhere. the failure to eat. sitting in the sun but the chills keep coming. a year ago it was him. today it is the loss of self. and i know this feeling will pass. it will evolve into a moment only to recall. but today. and tomorrow and the day after i know. at least this much. that it will remain, tied to my waist. such a solid ambivalent reminder, that i have lost. that i must surrender. that i must continue the dreaming...

sometimes.

sometimes. there are small animosities. fears that have allowed sullen claws to digress. tears that have hastened their approach, looking beyond thought, passing over memory and simply waiting for release.
when your breath quickens and your palms sweat you are withdrawing into a place where i will not be able to face you. and in this secret world where every moment is encased in silence i can see, the angry fate of such love as this. the only fate worthy of sound and space.

skin.

please don't tear the skin. there is not much left. and there are tiny time bombs, asking why, and you are scuttling off without reply. resounding answers...that nothing can erase. a place where lust was dry and caused such empty space to come alive. there are retreats, small cavities i can hide inside, where you find me. breathing. barely alive. there are treatises. waving red flags. on approach...heaving. then, just gone. and often, without so much, as a sullen goodbye.

bliss [aka, the ny deli]

it's time to revisit this subject.
the new york city deli.
and what men do with eggs and cheese.
i'm not even a big fan of eggs. i rarely eat them but on morning like today [read: little sleep for 3 weeks straight now, coming off a best friend visit, a sister in town and two nights with shiny toy guns....] eggs and cheese and katsup and strong ethiopian coffee from porto rico imports [a reason for living] is much needed.
hallelujah. praise new york. these seemingly small things are entirely NOT over-rated. that i can stumble over to the deli and pay $2 for such a delectable life changing breakfast...well it just kinda makes me feel like the luckiest california transplant ever. i love you nyc. woot.

xokg.

bjork. [lullabies for ravers]

madison square garden. last night. bjork. i cried within 30 seconds of her being on stage. [that voice...] unbelievable. it was pretty much a greatest hits concert. she played almost 2 hours and only sang 4 songs from the new album. hyperballad was stunning and then remixed at the end. a full on rave song. i have never heard a love song so amazingly danceable. what a beautiful precious honest soul. my dear sister must thinks me crazy crying the whole show but that's what happens when i hear a voice such as that. thank you atlantic for the tickets. thank you shannon for gettin em gratis last minute for us. made my life, kinda. [sorry i had to miss your show mr. armata]

oh and the unexpected highlight? antony coming out to sing a duet with her. i adore him and have never even really seen a picture of this man. unfortunately his back was too us and he kinda hobbled out all hunched over, sang in the shadows of the stage then stumbled away before i could catch a glimpse. oh but his voice. heaven. thank you.

as for this morning. well. let's just say central park and coldplay [yes insert witty gay comment here, but it was parachutes so is that joke really applicable???] there's a song that i used to curl up to on repeat about 2.5 years ago. it was the most hopeful comforting beautiful song ever. what magic to play it today and stand in front of a sun reflected pond in central park. it was a moment when i stepped outside of myself and let be all the drama that's circling at the moment and just dive in. dive in to emotion and sensations grander than myself. that's the only way to explain it. and today i know i've been let go again. and maybe, just maybe this time, it's me who is ready for it. i sure hope so. if not, i will always have my songs.

pretty pretty. [i'll see you soon...]


So you lost your trust
And you never should have
No,you never should have
But don't break your back
If you ever see this
But don't answer that
In a bullet proof vest
With the windows all closed
I'll be doing my best
I'll see you soon
In a telescope lens
And when all you want is friends
I'll see you soon

So they came for you
They came snapping at your heels
They come snapping at your heels
But don't break your back
If you ever say this
But don't answer that

Ina bullet proof vest
With the windows all closed
I'll be doing my best
And I'll see you soon

In a telescope lens
And when all you want is friends
I'll see you soon


you lost your trust
you lost your trust
don't lose your trust
you lost your trust

::coldplay - i'll see you soon::

ps.

[i can't wait much longer]

death [rebirth] and longing.

i cannot hide anymore. death traps tapping my window. asking for audience. laughing in wonder at the jump my heart takes to be near you.
witness a slow rebirth. the momentum of memories carrying me towards you. burrowing deeply into the earth. no longer waiting. no longer longing. just standing still in such movement. standing amid the chaos. demanding order and contracting with god and demons. angels and omens. all so that i may save myself. from the destruction. that's sure to come. when i say i love you. again. and again. and again.

grieving.

there are no phases of regret
merely repression
of emotion
singeing my hair
in anticipation of approach.
what avalanche can withstand such love?
when you have witness my demise
and my pursuit of distance.
when you have stung the only memory
that would keep me from you.
i can only sing a song in silence.
grieving for you
with words you'll never know.

bruised knees and sock puppets

random? yes. so here you go:

tired. and why? i spent at least 1.5 days in bed this weekend and i'm still just not with it.
3am bedtimes? why are you failing me?

my knees are extremely bruised. apparently bicycles locked to scaffolding are extremely dangerous. stay away. girl fall down go boom.

meridith likes socks. james likes to put makeup on them. call them simone. and make them sing 'ne me quitte pas'. any questions why i'm friends with these people? that's what i thought.

i like to play with our sock puppet simone while meridith sleeps and watch showtime original series. i love meridiths loft. and blueberry beer. and dummy drunks who think moving to los angeles is cool. doods. your $10k/month house on the beach is not going to magnetize every cool person in lala land to you. but it's a funny idea. good luck.

hmmmmmm.
dear brain
please work soon
or teleport me to the nearest bed
canal and mercer is NOT that far.

love you. don't wanna be on you. my girlfriends and one diva rule. amazing brunch. daniel thank you for cooking up a storm and breakin in the apartment kitchen. michael thanks for showing up in a suit for all of 3.5 minutes to drop of champagne. val. 4 days mamma. then you are mine. i love you.


xokg.

misdemeanor

deciding. if it’s time. if there’s enough space between. if there are open ended answers to what this is. what becomes one hundred? what skin touches down? what wills collide to bring this back to life?

i have overheard enough in this life. i cannot claim ignorance. i cannot fathom release such as this again. your skin is too fair. your touch too heavy. your eyes too brilliant to let go again.

i set him free. i release myself into ether. i suck the airs of absence hiding between our palms. i can sense every movement. every sigh. every thought that comes within 10 feet of me. and you are all about it. your skin. your face. your fingers. tracing the lines of want and desire ever so slightly, lingering, drowning. sacrificing not a thing. no more. no longer. absence cannot control me.

i need rilke. i need bukowski. i need baudelaire. and nin. and miller. i need a song. a stance. a word action-deed-misdemeanor. i need you. i need you again.

perfection [waiting for us]

perfection. as it reels me in.
sounds sickly and remotely insecure.
i’m not sure about petty thoughts
or angry laments
but i’m fairly certain
your skin
with its faulty deeds
and master inception
is hurried
and longing
looking for me in sidewalk cracks
above gravestones
and under tree branches.
and now

there are wide expanses
languid movement
and insipid limbs
lusting after us
waiting
for new blood
waiting
for us

xoxo

begin. believe. receive.

adjustment comes again. bare limbs. silent tongue. relaxing into sound.

the space i fill is indirectly linked with yours. the time i kill is a gold mine. watching. waiting. receiving. i wash water from my skin. i wade into this. reliving pain. drowning in my own inanities. she cannot save me. and she will not let me go.

i hold skin. dreaming. lucid. unaware of the power my hair holds. unaware of the waves that come. crashing into you. when you stand near to me. or even when. you are laughing. across the room.

i must not forget. i must not name names. i must always. in every case.

begin. believe. receive.

dear san francisco

i miss you today
the fog on my face the cold summer
the steep hills the crooked lanes
i miss you today.

xokg.

forgiven. and free.

i am tempted to disguise...my self. my fate. my faith in this.
when you approach me with eyes down, hair weighed with thought, skin to touch...i cannot breath. but i want to believe. in obscenity. in this truth. in the knowing of what i feel when you are not even in the room. i am walking towards you. feeding space with recognition. holding heat in my hands. i know how to love an infinite space. a wonder of such beauty, placed in front of me. given to me. forgiven. and free.

engagement.

time and space. as it settles on my skin...liquid and airid. belonging and secretive. i house regret no more. my brow released...my senses overwhelmed, with the most beautiful joy i have know. until now i steped through darkness with eyes open, sleeping with demons, dancing with shadow and coming through, somewhat unscathed. i have stories to share with you. of my own demise. of the sounds the sea has made [the battle in her head]. i offer you this. one piece. one golden strand. and stand steady. ready...for faith. for blood. for your hand.

[decision]

precious. and perfect. decidedly undiluted. walking...sandstone wearing...waving redwoods...raving. such beauty in truth and decision. such confidence in solitude and isolation. i crave nothing. knowing the self in decidedly unmovable terms. both of my hands are empty. smiling. full mouth and heart no longer wavering. i wholly embrace the taste of this. decision. to move. softly stepping. again and again and again. with nothing and no one. and ev-er-y space inside of me. a light.

[worthy]

i want space to come over me. step inside the cells where walls meet. when you arrive...i sense the world stashing air around me. causing life and love to fall through my skin...forcing breath and extracting nonsense. there are no words to call forth execution. you are a wonder of this world. a cave for craving. a man worth surviving.

diety.

your face. a slight deity. bound before me. your limbs. watching in silence and tearing at me. wavering slightly so that i might see. whispering softly so that i might know. every reason. every acceptance...and lust and love that could cover us. every memory that ever has been and is being created in this moment. now and for each step. i take. towards you. i am not standing in silence anymore. i am awake and perspiring. exhilarated. and patient. amazed. at the beauty and futility. of Love.

wow. that was a night! (julep. doc's. and my new favorite gay)

i'm not sure how to describe last night. so i'll just get to the specifics.

first off. if you haven't eaten at jeollado (sushi on 4th between 1st and 2nd) you are missing out on one of the best things in nyc. amazingly fresh produce. gorgeous sushi. and sake for $1. yep. a buck.

julep. oh how i love thee. not only for your amazingly cheap (dare i say free??) beer. but the basement (guero) is pretty much my 2nd (or is it 3rd or 4th...?) home. playing a show in the dark with a red light on me was pretty awesome. and despite the fact that i had a hoarse voice because i've been out till 4am and up at 8 every morning for the last 9 days you still loved me. liza. genevieve. jeff. wow. you rule.

gerry. you made me something delicious and even included a plastic spoon. i was confused at first about the bag with soy sauce in it. but then i realized you are a far better drunk than me and were merely providing the utensils for the gorgeous yumminess that you created. i know it wasn't apple pie. but i liked calling it that. and i liked eating it even better. having homebaked goods in a bag with my name on it handed to me when i walk into a bar is awesome. i really am homeless....but well provided for...woot!

doc's...meridith. that's pretty much all i have to say. and daniel thanks for coming out. and noel it was good to see you. and most importantly, christian! despite the fact that i was wearing an impossibly short black dress with hot pink underwear and you decided to knock me and my barstool over...you are still my (new) favorite gay. see, usually i am perfectly capable of incurring enough mysterious bruises onto my person in the course of a night. but you my dear...wow. there's nothing like tumbling from that height. in that dress. onto the floor. good thing my ninja skills kicked in and i was able to recoup before anyone knew what happened. it sure was confusing. and you are still my (new) favorite gay. and your brother's hot. awesome.

dawn. you rule. that's pretty much the verdict. popcorn. sex. and the city. we are dangerous alone but trouble together. i love you.

ok kids. that's all for now. stay tuned for pics and more stories. mili's coming this weekend. i hope i don't die.

xokg.

my feet step softly.

there's a reason that beauty does not lie. that truth holds all secrets ransom. that my face seeks redemption in yours. there's a reason that guides me, steady and unwavering towards this place. where answers speek freely. where beauty, truth, and love are the only reality.

state of affairs.

ok where to start. my head does not hurt but i am bruised. and my eyes won't focus and my inner organs are shaking. part joy of living part lack of sleep part being in love with the world...it adds up indeed. i think nyc has taken to me quite well. i've spent 3 of my last four birthdays here and they just keep getting better. photos. coming. soon. more. right. now. too preoccupied trying not to fall over to post :)

thank you all for this beautiful weekend. i love you. shannon. dad. meridith. dawn. jeff. alex. jen. bacon. michael. jess. jessica. taly. james. gerry. suzanne. joey. strangers. and new friends. oh yeah. ps. dancing at 4am to garth brooks and being swirled around on the dance floor then having your partner slide across the floor on his knees to you a la dirty dancing patrick swayze style? hot. i love everyone (i think i said that already)...

this week? solo show at my 2nd favorite dive bar (julep/guero) on wednesday. come on. disco balls, candles and vintage furnature? bring it.
*find an apartment*yoga*sleep*
and tonight? fried pickles.

:)
xokg.

reasons to be beautiful :: catherine feeny

it's time. to share...more music. more sound. more soul.

i've been humming all day...'you can't tell the truth, not even to yourself...'
the opening line of the brilliant song 'touch back down'
if you've never heard it best get on over to www.catherinefeeny.com and check it out

also just as obsessive is my fascination with the song 'i come home' which you can hear on her myspace page:
www.myspace.com/catherinefeeny

she has a stunningly hushed voice, soothing and soaring all at once.
it's beautiful to see her getting so much more attention these days.

...xokg.

wow. really? (my head hurts and other fun stories)

let's begin with a side note ---> only in new york do they not only make your coffee for you adding the perfect amount of cream and sugar in an instant...but they place it ever so kindly in a paper bag with napkins and hand it to you.
so strange.
i'm lovin it.

ok back to my head.
it's hurting. a lot. a ton. mucho. beaucoup.
i narrowly escaped turning into a gremlin.
shannon is in town and trouble is already loose.
we headed out to see the james armata show last night (um. heaven. if you haven't seen him you are missing out. ps. crazy drunk irish people are not the authority on channeling k thanks. i am.)

despite our best effort to see the show then head straight home so we could get shannon to bed since she hadn't really slept or eaten in about two days...well.....we.....ended up drinking. let's see...wine, beer, whiskey (omg i'm so sorry jameson i cheated on you but he wasn't irish so does it really count???), jager, vodka. repeat. and no, i'm NOT wondering why my head hurts so bad today. but thanks for asking. (5am bedtimes are nifty.)

i'm not going to explain much more. photos tell a much better story. let's just say that telecasters rule. unborn alien babies drool. and i love everyone. even you.

:)

[gift]

stand. encased. enraptured. lost language resurfaced. he pulls the face of fate apart before my eyes. i wear callous remarks no more. honoring the deafening language that calls forth angels and demons together, at once, in such space as this. where golden threads appear, long entwined, ever apparent. you are the call. you are the space without waiting, the energy of moon and jupiter, the ring forgiving all reproach. there has never been such vision as this. where words call colors and memories and skin, drawn together without touch. i know not what this speaks of. but i remember everything. and i know that excellence, past and present, is now a gift to give. in you. through you. with you. and of you.

[untitled]

please remember. that lust is not a virtue. that obscenity is a cause for retraction. that inspiration is a song and a touch and a moment free of time and space. let there be fortune. and light. a signal. some sense of rationale.

i love. and what of it? what fears have been faced to come into this place...

i cannot carve any more secrets into my skin. the words of your dream, placed on my palm, will remain. i can see again. i can sing again. and with that. i will begin again. i am free again...to place such hope and want and need in a single thread. and dance until it's tied between, this space where we meet.

xokg.

lost.

i have lost all lines of communication. misplaced teeth and tears over this. held my own hand and rushed forward accepting fate and fear and synchronistic wanting. but such silence blinds me. there is no mastery of wordless lust! or even you, near. i have lost everything. everything this time. and though the words tie hard knots around me, faltering and caressing. i know. [i know that he is gone.]

razors.

i feel sharp. sticky. obsolete.
airs and absence and comfort are lodged deep in my throat trying to get out. seeking space. hands and limbs and lips. they retrace fate and bring forth memories long buried. i thought i was stronger than this. i've grown to know more than i wish. so sitting softly on lily pad and sandalwood, i carve secrets into my skin. singing, for faith or freedom. listening for eruption or just, a moment within.

this is not a riddle...

only a fool would choose fear over love.

prayer [true taste]

prayer. for peaceful remembrance.
for forgiveness
for sins and lust and regret
for every moment I wait for you
for every second you wish it could go on
without a word of undue persuasion.
I am not without fault
I crave what does not belong to me
I am not without fear
I taste what is offered no more
but I believe
and trust
the pain and truth of lust
and remember
to hold
and embrace
the true taste
of love that’s to come

forgotten.

it’s tearing at my limbs. shooting ‘cross my belly. obscene. wicked. truthful.
obsession dies a faulty death only to rear up night after night. again. slight worry. remembrance of broken heart, wet limbs and absence. but the heart knows no limits. the hearts seeks only truth and with it, late night phone calls, dreams or words of sex and rebirth. if only there were answers. but questions, more, keep coming. and I have no response. I have heady words and eager hands and silence…
I can calm anger. I can live in love. I can claim beauty and death at once. I can stand still in this. I can engage chaos. I can be the answer, loose tongue and a wager on how long till this is all forgotten.

love. [i forget]

it's almost 930. i'm in nyc. sitting on a balcony. alone. finally. for one of the few moments i get these days. which i cherish more and more. the sun is gone but the sky still holds onto blue. it's not even hot and it's july 2nd. some miracle. some beauty. my mind mumblings are of love. of relationship. of the unspoken contracts we make to each other. conscious. unconscious. before arriving here even. the commitment we make. to communication. to understanding. to seeing. to knowing. to holding. to respecting. to knowing what we are and what we need. so that we know what to ask for. so that we know what we can receive. so that we can embrace and willingly give that which we are confident to offer. so that we can carve out space such as this to reflect and replenish and honor our solitude when needed. when it is asked of us.

delusions. of rules and regulations. forgetting that a relationship brings flexible boundaries made to be pushed and expanded so that we can grow. i forget. i set up fences and close doors. loosing the keys and forgetting combinations. i unhinge doors to keep myself occupied, in attendance to all i'm being shown. the dance of faith and lust and love. of friendship, of long forgotten lovers, of souls, mating, underestimating and recuperating. i forget that language cannot solve issues of the heart. that emotions cannot be persuaded except through simple song or long bouts of silence with both beauties present.
happiness. growth. the knowingness of another. the understanding of the chaos that makes their world exist. the holding of their hand. the weight of their breath. the slight release. the full birth. of love.

the special relationship

somewhere between assassins, glaciers and airplanes there is a space. i can't call it love. and i won't call it lust. i won't even name it. but i will explain it. a situation so delicate. so tenuous. so filled with adoration and slight obsession. with questions and exclamation points and..................... lots of ...........'s. sometimes grief. she carries in a splash of apathy and rewards patience with understanding. sometimes no words can come. sometimes too many are uttered. sometimes all that is needed is a hug, a head on the shoulder or a look in a bar with a handful of strangers watching to acknowledge what is felt. to be reflected back again and again and again...all that cannot be spoken. all that is unknown. but felt. deeply. in the heart. on the skin. in fingers and in photographs. in words and through song. there are days one wants to walk away. there are days i want to run. catch the first plane out of new york city. and fly to you. but i would not know how to sit still for so long. or what of me you would take when i arrive. when the offering is everything. so i walk in circles. standing in dreams and changing my reality with long deep breaths and calm seeing. you are not me. there is no destiny. there is longing. and deep stirring. and lessons burrowing inside of me. transforming. rearranging. adjusting. still i cannot and do not and will not expect any little thing from this. from you. but i sit. and watch. in silence. offering up to you the simple space of my heart and the emotions therein that lay bare. for fear of the unknown is no longer an emotion i can live with. what words must speak have spoken. what wait has abated now brings fortune. and new songs bear singing.

reunited. and it feels so good.

after a brief stint on tour. my purse and i have been reunited. the united baggage ticket speaks of her harsh but fulfilling journey into unknown hands and lands. and her contents remain intact, miracle of miracles:

new sunglasses. new thich nhat han book (true love). new paulo coelho book (the witch of portobello). journal (not lil notes journal, full on journal i've taken into other countries with my life written in it!), unlimited subway card, atm card, checkbook, note with all bank information on it, drivers license, stg/kh favorite hat, apt keys, burnt orange ribbon, $24, lipgloss, mascara, compact, lotion, camera, cell phone (uhm i wuv my blackberry), camera (paparazzi is back!), dental floss, contacts case, amber oil, and a few misc papers.





seriously?

thank you kenny, carah, jeremy, mikey and jim for making this possible ;)

and thank you whisk-wee. i will not be needing your services for some time now!

don't worry kids. this is just the beginning.

purse abducted by alien

i swear this story is freakin hilarious
ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
the alien is in possession of my purse
i'm scared
i just want it back
anyone with alien communication skills please reply with advice
i obviously only know how to ninja fight and we all know how that ended up the last time...

kiss kiss.
xokg

private beauty.

hold yourself
close
lean in
the ground is on approach
fingers
deft and stalking
release stars and light
sliding gently into me
teasing my hair
lifting my brow
resting sweet kisses
on lonely lips.
if only
the world
would see.

an explaination....of sorts...kerouac and bukowski

in honor of last nights adventures (and the surprising lack of concern about my nightlife activities from my closest friends) i thought i'd share some lifestyle appropriate quotes from some men near and dear to my heart. mr. kerouac and the esteemed mr. bukowski. let the game go on...

Charles Bukowski:

"Some people never go crazy, What truly horrible lives they must live"

"If you're losing your soul and you know it, then you've still got a soul left to lose"

"There will always be something to ruin our lives, it all depends on what or which finds us first. We are always ripe and ready to be taken."

"Well, people got attached. Once you cut the umbilical cord they attached to the other things. Sight, sound, sex, money, mirages, mothers, masturbation, murder, and Monday morning hangovers."

"Never get out of bed before noon"

and my favorite....

"Sometimes you just have to pee in the sink."

not that i've pissed in a sink but...well...i can sympathize.


Jack Kerouac:

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"

"I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion."

"What’s in store for me in the direction I don’t take?"

"Accept loss forever."

"All of life is a foreign country."


passions. words. music. travel. cities. paris. galway. new york. san francisco. los angeles. love. angels. demons. death. transformation. the tower. the song. the heart. food. wine. whiskey. beer. kisses. hands. limbs. this is what keeps me alive. solitude. absolution. hope. loss. pain. forgiveness. trust. tears. divulging. speaking. screaming. tasting. exploring. wandering. asking. leaping. stepping. running. fleeing. moving at a steady pace. friends. lovers. both. dive bars. martini bars. east village bars. love. love. love. in it through it full of it touching tasting exploring ... expanding. xokg.

on tour.

my cell phone's on tour
my last 20 bucks is on tour
my drivers license is on tour
my debit card is on tour
my new paulo choelo book is on tour
my apt keys are on tour
my favorite hat is on tour
my freakin camera is on tour!!!
my monthly unlimited subway card is on tour
my lipgloss is on tour
my makeup is on tour
my journal is on tour
heck my chopstick is on tour

but i'm at work
how's that?

oh you want the story?
welllllllllllllllllll.
too bad.

the sun.

please face the sun
but do not melt me
turn inside out
let something form
fateless
free
and place yourself
in my hand
let me touch the mystery
let it unravel me
tasteless
without resolution
i can deal
with another break
another happenstance
but it must be now
done
spaced between my fingers
touching my feet
wrapped up in my hair
i cannot be alone again
i cannot face the sun.

let's recap

okay let's have a little random check in with kim

housing. i'm moving in a week. next friday to be exact. where? i have no idea. maybe in with another friend. maybe into my own palce. maybe a sublet. oh how i love the housing adventure. story of my life. always amazing to me how perfectly it works out.

doc holiday's. this bar is a vortex. meridith is my girlfriend. i've got all my peeps to come out there on thursday's. brandon even. kisses. yummies. i love everyone. dawn is my hero and my strength right now. hey i even went and hid in the back room sitting on beer boxes next to the ice machine to talk on my phone. about what i don't recall. but i know it was my heart. and i know she was listening.

shinys. they'll be here on monday and i'm so freakin excited i'd jump up and down if i thought i could without falling over (yes it was one of those nights).

i figured out the best way to make up with someone you're fighting with is to get naked.

the end.

[one step. two steps.]

by Laura Halloran Mallory

speak softly to me of freedom or of pain
or if you wish to, put your fingers in my mouth,
release my heart from my throat and find a crack.
drop yourself into me open me wide
so something can find itself inside,
so something can finally get out.

I know my way is through this death
rebirth, decompression and idleness;
in cycles I suffer my unforgiving intellect
[she says you cannot free then all, relax.]
remember where he sleeps. one step. two steps.

I cannot bare their sufferings of nothings
[the cross still stands lonely and covered with dust
against the stars of that forgotten night.]

it has grown too heavy, child, with dreams,
old age, and expectations.
even for you.
I am not him. I am not him.

so I walk away from them,
bleeding to recall a life lived once in joy,
before. before.
wrapped in the words of poets and paradoxes
I suck the airs of absence,
wondering at these words I spill like wine onto their feet,
wondering at their tears when I offer them a drink.

the desert.

i have not the heart to tell you anymore. the words won’t sit long enough on my tongue to come through. the space in my heart where cells used to inhabit cannot be filled. but they are felt. by one woman. in san diego. she melts me. she steps slowly. one step. two. and I can no longer leap. i am bound to this. emotion. solitude. futility. anxiously beating. beauty. warmth. incessant questioning. incessant longing. forgiveness. and anxiousness. perfection. and direction. there are no more cliffs in sight. just an empty dessert. and plenty of room to dance.

henry and anais remind me how to lo[i]ve

I spent the afternoon with Henry Miller and Anais Nin. I’ve uncovered a secret I did not want to look at. But I will listen to it. Whispering. In these words. Of lovers. Friends. And mostly...just…artists…

HENRY MILLER:

An artist is always alone - if he is an artist. No, what the artist needs is loneliness.

I have no money, no resources, no hopes. I am the happiest man alive.


ANAIS NIN:

Do not seek the because - in love there is no because, no reason, no explanation, no solutions.

Life is truly known only to those who suffer, lose, endure adversity and stumble from defeat to defeat.

We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.

If you do not breathe through writing, if you do not cry out in writing, or sing in writing, then don't write, because our culture has no use for it.

Throw your dreams into space like a kite, and you do not know what it will bring back, a new life, a new friend, a new love, a new country.

We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.

let it be

let there be sand on my skin. memory erased. equality measured. songs returning from skin. lust overlooked. forgiveness said but not received. you can't take anything else from me. there must be a question. but i only keep answering. repeating silences into empty head, plugged ears, glazed over eyes. and i know i lie. to myself. every day. that love would return. that love would be held. but i cannot speak. i cannot run. i cannot even move. i am too fucked up to remember anything. i am too far gone to believe in anything. and being alone is not an option. in that there is no truth. because you keep touching me. moving closer. closing in. and you forget to tell me. any little thing. and i forget your silence is really everything.

only in new york - the street proposition

only in nyc can you walk down the street at 9am and be propositioned. not your normal 'hey baby' or whistle that every man in nyc seems to do to every woman able to walk...but a real 'wow, is this stalking?' moment. i mean. if i glance at you when you start talking to me and see that you are a little minion of a man and in no way shape or form am i interested in you and keep on walking, what dna strand is activated that tells you to follow me and while walking behind me explain in grand detail what you think about me...describing my outfit and explaining to me every single thing you like about the way i look. and then after 4 blocks and i still have not acknowledged your presence or that you are speaking to me, what defective brain cell decides to tell me your name and phone number out loud twice with alternating declarations that you will give me everything i want and do anything i ask? and that you'll treat me real nice?? hmmm? is there a special nyc school for men that they don't tell us women about? cause it would really be great to know how to respond or what to say to let you know we're not interested. i'm not even sure if i'm flattered or not. i was almost too tired to even react. and i was ready to hit you should it be necessary. but then you left me at the corner of 34th and 7th. miraculously. after once last mention of your name, phone number and where you live. it was funny. for just a moment. but seriously? only in new york. (ok and maybe paris). xokg.

beauty is forever (i remember)

beauty is forever...but it doesn't make sense. the waiting. the knowing. the wanting. to sit in silence. to wake with understanding. to drink wine in acceptance. i remember the day i stood in hyde park wearing red patent leather heels. i remember not knowing how to look. i remember sitting on the steep hillside off macondray lane in san francisco. confused. embarrassed. decidedly suicidal. i remember the words that came and changed me. the voice that spoke such softness. such kindness. such warmth. the one that turned the tides. i remember aching. i remember sitting in uncontrollable emotion. writing songs i never thought i'd sing. that i sing now. i remember regret. and i remember how i let go and how i stand now. starting over. i remember how much i love nyc. and i remember how i got here. all the long forceful meandering steps it took for me to arrive. and go back and forth and come back again. i remember the ocean. i remember your skin. i remember his face. i remember blacking out. again. and again. and again. i remember the hurt. i remember the world dissolved when you touched my hand. i remember moving. i remember the fight. with myself. with my art. with the heart. with the unknown demons i still speak with. i remember forgetting. for moments at a time. exploring new limbs. i remember. they were not you. i remember the music that saved me. the wind on the hill where i sat smoking. where i sat typing. to an unknown face. where i sat crying to an unknown god in an unknown place in a space i wanted to escape. i remember. the way i moved. the way i grew. i remember you. i remember.