[buy cheaper directly from city lights.]
and
feeble attempts
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Two Stripes
Two Stripes Were Minding Their Business…
and then a plaid accident.
our likelihoods crossed paths and
I tucked
tucked
tucked
and rolled
and when I arose tot tot
tot tot
frogs bit against the pink
tin bottoms of rabbits
and a chorus of harps laid loose
and laid claim
the frogs blossomed and their petals clapped
clap clap clap
and I snip
cut a ringlet from my dangling hangling
curls
to barter for a high five bam and I said ‘yeah’
with excitement and was so excited
snap snap
clip clip
yay yay
but all the baby whua whua blue in the high sky
got mad and all started whining whining whining sprink whine sprinkling and they seemed oh so sad oh so sad with an !
pop
and they clumped together, all the baby blues, and their mothers above them in the sky
shook their scarlet fingers in shame
while the frogs finished their tin snacks
and the sun began to shine.
© 2007, Jared Linzmeier
and then a plaid accident.
our likelihoods crossed paths and
I tucked
tucked
tucked
and rolled
and when I arose tot tot
tot tot
frogs bit against the pink
tin bottoms of rabbits
and a chorus of harps laid loose
and laid claim
the frogs blossomed and their petals clapped
clap clap clap
and I snip
cut a ringlet from my dangling hangling
curls
to barter for a high five bam and I said ‘yeah’
with excitement and was so excited
snap snap
clip clip
yay yay
but all the baby whua whua blue in the high sky
got mad and all started whining whining whining sprink whine sprinkling and they seemed oh so sad oh so sad with an !
pop
and they clumped together, all the baby blues, and their mothers above them in the sky
shook their scarlet fingers in shame
while the frogs finished their tin snacks
and the sun began to shine.
© 2007, Jared Linzmeier
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
first holiday season in l.a.
is/was sh-amazing. i feel very fortunate. and new year's yet to come...
-jared
-jared
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
decks shifting
Decks Shifting
You understand what I mean when I say
wow that went fast
you know what I’m intending to be
when we hug
so these, and other things, make me a poet.
Where I come from it’s cold and hot and seasons rub fiercely
and sledding is a thing that’s essential
and I spent nights with snow stinging my face
holding my mom’s waist down the hill in our front yard
I shot arrows in the fall and slipped on ice in the spring
and have loved and still am loving
and now I live in L.A.
and I am still loving
There’ve been coffee
and cigarettes and asthma doesn’t appreciate that
but someone does.
I’ve alluded to problems with alcohol
and have had the privilege of
turmoil in the country
and words baffling me
and measley divorce.
Jumping thoughts and, simply, attempts at simplifying and capturing scenes.
I live in a world where honor is present.
There is honor
humor
in the ways of things.
and a piece of lint
in my beard
My fancy is windows down
and lines that strike
like ‘this is a hard, stolen land’
I have a threaded history of pine needles
and bee stings and roasted chipmunks
it’s the truth
and am capable of
not thinking
before acting
tickling
My shaking hands can’t stop
and my family…
stitching the two together
after wearing them apart.
and I’m sometimes a branded man
and othertimes squinting with so much day in my eyes.
© 2007, Jared Linzmeier
You understand what I mean when I say
wow that went fast
you know what I’m intending to be
when we hug
so these, and other things, make me a poet.
Where I come from it’s cold and hot and seasons rub fiercely
and sledding is a thing that’s essential
and I spent nights with snow stinging my face
holding my mom’s waist down the hill in our front yard
I shot arrows in the fall and slipped on ice in the spring
and have loved and still am loving
and now I live in L.A.
and I am still loving
There’ve been coffee
and cigarettes and asthma doesn’t appreciate that
but someone does.
I’ve alluded to problems with alcohol
and have had the privilege of
turmoil in the country
and words baffling me
and measley divorce.
Jumping thoughts and, simply, attempts at simplifying and capturing scenes.
I live in a world where honor is present.
There is honor
humor
in the ways of things.
and a piece of lint
in my beard
My fancy is windows down
and lines that strike
like ‘this is a hard, stolen land’
I have a threaded history of pine needles
and bee stings and roasted chipmunks
it’s the truth
and am capable of
not thinking
before acting
tickling
My shaking hands can’t stop
and my family…
stitching the two together
after wearing them apart.
and I’m sometimes a branded man
and othertimes squinting with so much day in my eyes.
© 2007, Jared Linzmeier
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
creative commons and copyright business
This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License.
maybe it's unfounded, but lately i've been thinking about how to protect my poems from redistribution, theft/borrowing, etc... anyone know more about the pros and cons of using a creative commons license for my work?
any other advice than applying a "© 2007, Jared Linzmeier" to my stuff?
Friday, December 7, 2007
good news for a friday
bad things come in...
yesterday:
-got a $50 parking ticket for street cleaning right in front of my house.
tonight:
-forgot my cell phone at work.
-road 6 miles home in the rain and realized the above bad thing about 2/3 the way.
so that's 3, eh? doesn't stop me from being cold and wet and incapable of sleeping right now. hmm.. i just found my phone so things are already looking up!
-------------
oh well.. maybe this celebration of my bday [which is technically on the 10th]
will help things brighten up a bit. come out if you can! thanks for the flyer, tattiya.
also on a up and up note, i've been training pretty heavily at intelligentsia the past few weeks. i'm now pulling shots consistently and working on pouring hearts and rosettas and also have cupped coffees a few times [which i'll write more about soon] and overall learning tons about all realms of coffee. it's really been a quite insightful past month or so. me sniffing in on some wet aroma at the intelligentsia roasting works:
check my coworker ryan's blog for more coffee-geek-relatedness, pictures and more, and also tony's blog and pics.
-got a $50 parking ticket for street cleaning right in front of my house.
tonight:
-forgot my cell phone at work.
-road 6 miles home in the rain and realized the above bad thing about 2/3 the way.
so that's 3, eh? doesn't stop me from being cold and wet and incapable of sleeping right now. hmm.. i just found my phone so things are already looking up!
-------------
oh well.. maybe this celebration of my bday [which is technically on the 10th]
will help things brighten up a bit. come out if you can! thanks for the flyer, tattiya.
also on a up and up note, i've been training pretty heavily at intelligentsia the past few weeks. i'm now pulling shots consistently and working on pouring hearts and rosettas and also have cupped coffees a few times [which i'll write more about soon] and overall learning tons about all realms of coffee. it's really been a quite insightful past month or so. me sniffing in on some wet aroma at the intelligentsia roasting works:
check my coworker ryan's blog for more coffee-geek-relatedness, pictures and more, and also tony's blog and pics.
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
inside today
This poppiness is pop pop and jump jump… but anyhow it was nice playing Scrabble last night and I’m thinking not thinking being happy and jittering around the house and then I grabbed my nutshell and spent some time inside it remembering today through the thrills of last year and taking steps back to appreciate and throwing little pebbles across arboretums across time zones and across images of hugs.
a draft for a poem about poetry
It isn’t a race
it isn’t a struggle
for words out there
it isn’t saying it
before someone else
and it needn’t be rushed
or explosions
like sifting through the madness for the word, the line, the way no
no it can be keeping the music
from going away
and ensuring hums
and looks and insurance
to cover foreign nights
it needn’t be laziness
or relying on ambiguity
or hearts going out
and it needn’t be a song
and it isn’t wishing to be heard (is it?)
and it sure is easy to make it more than it is
and it isn’t pressing buttons (yes it is)
and it is a source for embellishment
and beauty but not envy
and an aid for finding smiles when stumbling along.
it isn’t a struggle
for words out there
it isn’t saying it
before someone else
and it needn’t be rushed
or explosions
like sifting through the madness for the word, the line, the way no
no it can be keeping the music
from going away
and ensuring hums
and looks and insurance
to cover foreign nights
it needn’t be laziness
or relying on ambiguity
or hearts going out
and it needn’t be a song
and it isn’t wishing to be heard (is it?)
and it sure is easy to make it more than it is
and it isn’t pressing buttons (yes it is)
and it is a source for embellishment
and beauty but not envy
and an aid for finding smiles when stumbling along.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
winter is a here
damn, it's bad out. too icy, too wet, too cold...so i'm gonna cry about it. i've lived in the midwest for 24 years and i still can't get used to it. i did enjoy shoveling today, reminded me of home.it's funny, i listen to my playlist and i just think of how all these songs remind me of summer. makes me miss it. i guess the reason why i'm so jaded is that i finally have a plan. unfortunately it won't come to full bloom until around may.
my time to leave is way overdue. madison, thank you but i need to leave. LA, i hope you're nice to me.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
thanksgiving
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Hanging to Dry
Baby's a year old now and I want to cry.
Too many necks stuck out against the sides of books and too much sunshine in a city without brakes..
'I'm so lonesome I could cry.'
Silhouettes in pictures, grainy with time, aged like patchwork quilts.
'There are places I'll remember all my life.'
The timing of those weekends built bricks into our hearts.
Somewhere out there is a dream and somewhere out there is a fear of bad dreams coming true, worry-me-bads coming awfully true.
Uncle Danny's slowly grinding coffee and Grandma's smelling it and making phone calls.
Believe me, Pablo, when I say that the assistant sometimes has it better off and, that said, I'm glad to help you along and to help find faith in 'A project is just that, son, and someday needs be done.'
Sundays are slow steps and eggs and a concentration on lifting from one to the next, slow steps, and longer minutes.
Baby's a year old now and I want the best.
An assistant to the pull of love can be the proximity of it or the ties of distance also.
No country for young children.
Just as much as No Country For Old Men.
Just suit them all up in boots and maybe they'll meet somewhere between Laredo and Los Angeles.
Together they can taste the sameness of weeks of bread eaten without much else on breaks not much easier than...
Carried on during the grey times, discovering aspects of what needs be done and bleeding codes of ethics.
Too many necks stuck out against the sides of books and too much sunshine in a city without brakes..
'I'm so lonesome I could cry.'
Silhouettes in pictures, grainy with time, aged like patchwork quilts.
'There are places I'll remember all my life.'
The timing of those weekends built bricks into our hearts.
Somewhere out there is a dream and somewhere out there is a fear of bad dreams coming true, worry-me-bads coming awfully true.
Uncle Danny's slowly grinding coffee and Grandma's smelling it and making phone calls.
Believe me, Pablo, when I say that the assistant sometimes has it better off and, that said, I'm glad to help you along and to help find faith in 'A project is just that, son, and someday needs be done.'
Sundays are slow steps and eggs and a concentration on lifting from one to the next, slow steps, and longer minutes.
Baby's a year old now and I want the best.
An assistant to the pull of love can be the proximity of it or the ties of distance also.
No country for young children.
Just as much as No Country For Old Men.
Just suit them all up in boots and maybe they'll meet somewhere between Laredo and Los Angeles.
Together they can taste the sameness of weeks of bread eaten without much else on breaks not much easier than...
Carried on during the grey times, discovering aspects of what needs be done and bleeding codes of ethics.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
l.a. brakeless
congratulations to dave and thomas of lab (l.a. brakeless)!
they opened their doors on sunday and are located on motor between palms and national in culver city. this is a bike shop primarily dedicated to track and fixed-gear riding, but undoubtedly will be happy to help you with any of your cycling needs.
they opened their doors on sunday and are located on motor between palms and national in culver city. this is a bike shop primarily dedicated to track and fixed-gear riding, but undoubtedly will be happy to help you with any of your cycling needs.
Friday, November 9, 2007
the waste i found in a cup
Let me tell you about strands of legacies.
There’s a fairy tale in my field of vision blocking the fatigue of passing days and in IT there are some castles (depending on the day), but more often than not it’s somber wood buildings sort of resort-town-like with the aging shingles and that feeling in the air of getting away.
I think we could all use a bit of restoration.
I’m updating my head with charisma and visions of new me(s). Check back later.
At a café on Sunset, in the heart of Hollywood, a group discusses the “fires in the West” and “I’ve got a tickle in my throat.” Luckily they’ve found family in the most unlikely places…
Meanwhile, I’m sitting here conducting experiments and a study of putting together examples: see How The Other Half Lives? It was bad, very bad… And Blackwell’s could be an analogy.
I’m guilty of the grease on my hands and wishing for more and I’m guilty of letting in compliments about age [although it complements some other things, which I’d rather not let in again], but also calls to mind Yay yay for Christmas at Grandma’s house and the little tea sets and trees and ornaments forgotten about lost in time under her bed “She’s not the type to need them.”
Downstairs the tv’s playing old-timey shows and the realm of possibility can be said to be spinning.
They’re all together, finally, and the night is nice. Here friends are family.. but then the phone calls strike it down and spread the distance because the friends, some of them have feelers and are using them for comparative advantage analyses in unfortunate ways one friend is thinking how nice and another is thinking why hasn’t Adrian called back and another is somewhere else and another has at least excused herself outside for a call but oh well, advice given is attempts at getting it it’s working theories out and stripping the board-game collection down to Scrabble, Sorry, and Chess.
And I’m guilty of living a layered day and of missing a love and several others and I’m guilty of seriousness in honesty and in getting to the questions of the shaping of a poor child and I’m guilty of restraining myself sometimes in public because, unfortunately, the shingles aren’t spilling from the roofs today, but with a shirt like this I’m capable of hiding and in a place like this I’m more at ease because wood has a nice scent [that counts] and with all the blushes of the speeches being made I’ll chip in by being a witness and bring a package from my side and then we carry the streamers to celebrate the openings and we’re there for successes and for making the pictures worth hanging on walls in auntie’s deserted frames on ambitious days of catching up.
“Sesenta y uno” and louder “seseNTA y UNO.”
“O, that’s us.”
My “horse” trigger is comprised of a few components: mom, the memory of the weekend of seeing the Science of Sleep, not much to do with westerns.
Back on Sunset, “What time is it?” --- “We should get back then.” --- “Ok, we’ll get back soon. Ok, so that angle.. I want to get the window in the shot.” -- “And maybe we should catch the eyes, too.”
The Waste I found in a cup is a place
Of Land where we can read intent
And consider the illusion
Of structure [is a thought had and then, in stacks of shelves in poor lighting in metal that smells like metal and wood that smells old and rows of books that, collectively, smell like contained ghosts, a tired one begins to compose a thesis].
There’s a fairy tale in my field of vision blocking the fatigue of passing days and in IT there are some castles (depending on the day), but more often than not it’s somber wood buildings sort of resort-town-like with the aging shingles and that feeling in the air of getting away.
I think we could all use a bit of restoration.
I’m updating my head with charisma and visions of new me(s). Check back later.
At a café on Sunset, in the heart of Hollywood, a group discusses the “fires in the West” and “I’ve got a tickle in my throat.” Luckily they’ve found family in the most unlikely places…
Meanwhile, I’m sitting here conducting experiments and a study of putting together examples: see How The Other Half Lives? It was bad, very bad… And Blackwell’s could be an analogy.
I’m guilty of the grease on my hands and wishing for more and I’m guilty of letting in compliments about age [although it complements some other things, which I’d rather not let in again], but also calls to mind Yay yay for Christmas at Grandma’s house and the little tea sets and trees and ornaments forgotten about lost in time under her bed “She’s not the type to need them.”
Downstairs the tv’s playing old-timey shows and the realm of possibility can be said to be spinning.
They’re all together, finally, and the night is nice. Here friends are family.. but then the phone calls strike it down and spread the distance because the friends, some of them have feelers and are using them for comparative advantage analyses in unfortunate ways one friend is thinking how nice and another is thinking why hasn’t Adrian called back and another is somewhere else and another has at least excused herself outside for a call but oh well, advice given is attempts at getting it it’s working theories out and stripping the board-game collection down to Scrabble, Sorry, and Chess.
And I’m guilty of living a layered day and of missing a love and several others and I’m guilty of seriousness in honesty and in getting to the questions of the shaping of a poor child and I’m guilty of restraining myself sometimes in public because, unfortunately, the shingles aren’t spilling from the roofs today, but with a shirt like this I’m capable of hiding and in a place like this I’m more at ease because wood has a nice scent [that counts] and with all the blushes of the speeches being made I’ll chip in by being a witness and bring a package from my side and then we carry the streamers to celebrate the openings and we’re there for successes and for making the pictures worth hanging on walls in auntie’s deserted frames on ambitious days of catching up.
“Sesenta y uno” and louder “seseNTA y UNO.”
“O, that’s us.”
My “horse” trigger is comprised of a few components: mom, the memory of the weekend of seeing the Science of Sleep, not much to do with westerns.
Back on Sunset, “What time is it?” --- “We should get back then.” --- “Ok, we’ll get back soon. Ok, so that angle.. I want to get the window in the shot.” -- “And maybe we should catch the eyes, too.”
The Waste I found in a cup is a place
Of Land where we can read intent
And consider the illusion
Of structure [is a thought had and then, in stacks of shelves in poor lighting in metal that smells like metal and wood that smells old and rows of books that, collectively, smell like contained ghosts, a tired one begins to compose a thesis].
Friday, November 2, 2007
things i might do
--did you know norman mailer was still alive? yeah, well i didn't. he is though. and no, i'm not entertaining the possibillity of doing norman mailer [as the title to this post might somewhat imply]. just a random thing i came upon via flavorpill's boldtype november edition.
--wednesday, october 31st: the deadly syndrome at spaceland.
--thursday, november 1st-11th: afi festival.
--friday, november 2nd [[nevermind... just remembered that i have to close at intelligentsia on friday night, but this looks cool nonetheless]]: november's ride-arc.
also friday: hoping to make it to the midnight showing of big lebowski at the theatre off fairfax at beverly.
--sunday, november 4th: an extra special bike polo gathering in celebration/mourning of/for daylight savings.
--monday, november 5th: this is as epic as it gets re: biking l.a. wolfpack's year anniversary=a century night ride. don't know if i can hang..
View Larger Map
...more to come
--wednesday, october 31st: the deadly syndrome at spaceland.
--thursday, november 1st-11th: afi festival.
--friday, november 2nd [[nevermind... just remembered that i have to close at intelligentsia on friday night, but this looks cool nonetheless]]: november's ride-arc.
also friday: hoping to make it to the midnight showing of big lebowski at the theatre off fairfax at beverly.
--sunday, november 4th: an extra special bike polo gathering in celebration/mourning of/for daylight savings.
--monday, november 5th: this is as epic as it gets re: biking l.a. wolfpack's year anniversary=a century night ride. don't know if i can hang..
View Larger Map
...more to come
a poem for today [and, oh!]
[not that i'm in an especially bad mood. cause i'm not. everything below taken from 42opus. and oh! if you like beirut, you might like to watch a video for each of the band's new songs off THE FLYING CUP CLUB.]
Bad Mood
by PAUL GUEST
Bad mood and bad dog and bad luck like
my broken neck or heart or head
playing out so much bad weather
like kinked yarn unraveled by a bad
black cat, which summons luck again,
that diffident lover half-
naked in the dark. To her
I walked beneath one thousand ladders
over miles of bad road
ribboned with bad directions.
Which wasn't as bad
as I thought it would be.
My bad ear pressed to the powdery wall
behind which strangers
badly performed their bad sex,
their bored flesh
nothing like the paleness of tulips
in the heat of Alabama
or the severed second
in which our voices sunk
from the bad phones we carried with us.
Across that bad connection,
the bad things compelling us
to speak out, to end up, to say
even now my skin flecks away.
Like paint applied
badly, quickly to cover
some previous horror,
some bad end solved badly,
the evidence lost,
thrown out, awarded to the jury of dust.
But I said it wasn't so bad.
And it wasn't.
There were days when knives of noon light
sliced the sky apart like tangerines.
And there were hours
and words amounting to consolation
and entire towns
ripe with welcome,
surrendering their thousand mirrors,
their seven long years.
Paul Guest is the author of The Resurrection of the Body and the Ruin of the World, winner of the 2002 New Issues Prize, and Notes for My Body Double, winner of the 2006 Prairie Schooner Book Prize. His chapbook, Exit Interview, is available from New Michigan Press.
Bad Mood
by PAUL GUEST
Bad mood and bad dog and bad luck like
my broken neck or heart or head
playing out so much bad weather
like kinked yarn unraveled by a bad
black cat, which summons luck again,
that diffident lover half-
naked in the dark. To her
I walked beneath one thousand ladders
over miles of bad road
ribboned with bad directions.
Which wasn't as bad
as I thought it would be.
My bad ear pressed to the powdery wall
behind which strangers
badly performed their bad sex,
their bored flesh
nothing like the paleness of tulips
in the heat of Alabama
or the severed second
in which our voices sunk
from the bad phones we carried with us.
Across that bad connection,
the bad things compelling us
to speak out, to end up, to say
even now my skin flecks away.
Like paint applied
badly, quickly to cover
some previous horror,
some bad end solved badly,
the evidence lost,
thrown out, awarded to the jury of dust.
But I said it wasn't so bad.
And it wasn't.
There were days when knives of noon light
sliced the sky apart like tangerines.
And there were hours
and words amounting to consolation
and entire towns
ripe with welcome,
surrendering their thousand mirrors,
their seven long years.
Paul Guest is the author of The Resurrection of the Body and the Ruin of the World, winner of the 2002 New Issues Prize, and Notes for My Body Double, winner of the 2006 Prairie Schooner Book Prize. His chapbook, Exit Interview, is available from New Michigan Press.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
update on my run-in with the bus
[regarding my post from 10/22/07 about a dangerous encounter i experienced]
--from l.a.'s metro customer relations:
"We certainly regret the incident below and will make a report against
the driver. Can you please tell us what direction you were traveling?
Did you by chance see the operator's badge number on their sleeve?
Again, our regret for this incident.
Metro Customer Relations"
--and my response:
"Thanks for your response. I was heading west and, unfortunately, was
unable to retrieve the operator's badge number."
--and their response:
"Thank you for your information. We apologize for the unprofessional
conduct of the operator. Per Metro procedures, operators encountering a
cyclist on the road or on an adjacent bike path should follows at a safe
distance. If it is necessary to pass a cyclist, the bus is to slow down
and pass with 3-4 -1/2 foot side clearance from them.
Rest assured your report will be investigated.
We entered your report into our database and forwarded a copy to
management for their review. They will identify the operator, interview
them and take corrective measures. Thank you for bringing this to our
attention.
Metro Customer Relations"
i'm pretty happy with the attention they've given my incident.
ALSO ALSO ALSO ALSO!! i forgot to mention: intelligentsia silver lake is hosting its first art opening tonight 10.26 from 7-11pm featuring the photo montage art of georgia cobb turcasio [i think i got the names spelled right]. the pieces will be up for a few weeks.
--from l.a.'s metro customer relations:
"We certainly regret the incident below and will make a report against
the driver. Can you please tell us what direction you were traveling?
Did you by chance see the operator's badge number on their sleeve?
Again, our regret for this incident.
Metro Customer Relations"
--and my response:
"Thanks for your response. I was heading west and, unfortunately, was
unable to retrieve the operator's badge number."
--and their response:
"Thank you for your information. We apologize for the unprofessional
conduct of the operator. Per Metro procedures, operators encountering a
cyclist on the road or on an adjacent bike path should follows at a safe
distance. If it is necessary to pass a cyclist, the bus is to slow down
and pass with 3-4 -1/2 foot side clearance from them.
Rest assured your report will be investigated.
We entered your report into our database and forwarded a copy to
management for their review. They will identify the operator, interview
them and take corrective measures. Thank you for bringing this to our
attention.
Metro Customer Relations"
i'm pretty happy with the attention they've given my incident.
ALSO ALSO ALSO ALSO!! i forgot to mention: intelligentsia silver lake is hosting its first art opening tonight 10.26 from 7-11pm featuring the photo montage art of georgia cobb turcasio [i think i got the names spelled right]. the pieces will be up for a few weeks.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
goings ons
been listening to the deadly syndrome a bit lately [http://myspace.com/thedeadlysyndrome]. they're an l.a. band [as much as most bands in l.a. are "l.a." bands [meaning half the band is from elsewhere]] that a devoted intelligentsia customer and [now] friend manages. thanks, joshua.
intelligentsia got rid of their urn for brewed coffee and now relies solely on two clovers for all of our brewed coffee needs [http://cloverequipment.com/home/Default.aspx]. every cup brewed freshly.
[photo www.flickr.com/photos/benchristen]
the vacant counter space is now occupied by a two-group synesso [http://www.synesso.com/], which marvellously complements our three-head at the front of the bar. this is ballin in coffee land. oh, and it's a little late to mention now [though maybe we'll get more?], but intelligentsia silver lake engorged it's succulent tastebuds with the worldwide-competition-winning hacienda la esmeralda de panama [read geoff watts's accout here: http://www.intelligentsiacoffee.com/origin/offerings/10-25-2006]. it was delicious. retail: $55/ 4 oz. or $220 / pound. oh, we also just got the little 1-3 cup chemex [http://www.chemexcoffeemaker.com/] in... not sure what it'll retail at yet, but it's pretty cute:
and makes a damn clean cup of coffee. we also carry the 8 cup version.
tattiya's goga ride is still kicking ass [http://gogabikeride.blogspot.com/].
the air here is fucking horrible.
[courtesy of airnow.gov]
^that small purple spot is where i live. purple means "very unhealthy" and helps to explain why i've been using my inhaler more than usual the past few days.
the mash dvd is now available for to order. it's $40, but looks to be well worth it and will ship nov. 15. i forgot to mention.. the weekend of the l.a. premier tattiya and george and monica [george's gf] and i had just finished eating thai food on melrose and pulled into the street when suddenly we were swarmed on by all the mash dudes [massan, emi, etc...] just fucking flying down melrose. i wasn't planning on partaking in any of the events, but that made my [i'm going to say it] heart speed up quite a bit. we drove behind them down melrose and watched as they were refused entrance to paramount studios..
this past sunday polopolopoloXXbikebikebike was pretty awesome. this dude boo showed up from sf [happened to be in town] and played a few games with us, forcing us not only to step it up but also reminding us that bike polo is bigger than what we do here and that we need to motivate and make it to some tournaments, etc.
sorry for all the pasted links without pop-up-in-another-windowness.
intelligentsia got rid of their urn for brewed coffee and now relies solely on two clovers for all of our brewed coffee needs [http://cloverequipment.com/home/Default.aspx]. every cup brewed freshly.
[photo www.flickr.com/photos/benchristen]
the vacant counter space is now occupied by a two-group synesso [http://www.synesso.com/], which marvellously complements our three-head at the front of the bar. this is ballin in coffee land. oh, and it's a little late to mention now [though maybe we'll get more?], but intelligentsia silver lake engorged it's succulent tastebuds with the worldwide-competition-winning hacienda la esmeralda de panama [read geoff watts's accout here: http://www.intelligentsiacoffee.com/origin/offerings/10-25-2006]. it was delicious. retail: $55/ 4 oz. or $220 / pound. oh, we also just got the little 1-3 cup chemex [http://www.chemexcoffeemaker.com/] in... not sure what it'll retail at yet, but it's pretty cute:
and makes a damn clean cup of coffee. we also carry the 8 cup version.
tattiya's goga ride is still kicking ass [http://gogabikeride.blogspot.com/].
the air here is fucking horrible.
[courtesy of airnow.gov]
^that small purple spot is where i live. purple means "very unhealthy" and helps to explain why i've been using my inhaler more than usual the past few days.
the mash dvd is now available for to order. it's $40, but looks to be well worth it and will ship nov. 15. i forgot to mention.. the weekend of the l.a. premier tattiya and george and monica [george's gf] and i had just finished eating thai food on melrose and pulled into the street when suddenly we were swarmed on by all the mash dudes [massan, emi, etc...] just fucking flying down melrose. i wasn't planning on partaking in any of the events, but that made my [i'm going to say it] heart speed up quite a bit. we drove behind them down melrose and watched as they were refused entrance to paramount studios..
this past sunday polopolopoloXXbikebikebike was pretty awesome. this dude boo showed up from sf [happened to be in town] and played a few games with us, forcing us not only to step it up but also reminding us that bike polo is bigger than what we do here and that we need to motivate and make it to some tournaments, etc.
sorry for all the pasted links without pop-up-in-another-windowness.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
grape drink baby
hey ya'll, i work for a local independent bike shop and it is high time that we get a bit more exposure. so i made a myspace page in order to advocate living a bicycle infused lifestyle.
we specialize in recreating old reliable bikes into light strong commuters. we don't force the carbon fiber or the 'fixed gear' mentality, but we will give you all the advantages or disadvantages and provide as much info as you need to make the next decision for your two-wheeled steed.
well, before i type your eyes out, come check out our photos (bikes we've built) and blog to get a feel for who we are and if we are the shop for you.
be our friend or if you know someone that is new to all this, refer us.
this is not about making money, this is not about show, this is about sharing something that has made our lives better.
cool,
earl
myspace.com/revcyclesmadison
Monday, October 22, 2007
good ol l.a. public transit...
an email to the los angeles metro system:
I'm filing an official complaint against the driver of bus 5076 at
approximately 4:35 PM on October 22nd.
The following is a synopsis of the events which I am publishing on my
blog and making extremely clear to everyone I can possibly spread the
information to:
"ten minutes ago i was riding my bike within half a mile of home when
bus 5076 of the los angeles metro public transit pinched me into the
curb after honking at me. i was riding as far right as i could on
washington boulevard, which at that block consists of three lanes
going each direction. the other two lanes were entirely free, yet the
busdriver honked at me (an unnecesary and startling action) and then
literally inched around me and pulled his front end to the curb
without loading or unloading any passengers. i rode around the bus to
the left and pulled up to his window (which was open) and grabbed the
side of the bus while remaining seated on my bike and attempting to
speak to the busdriver.
"didn't you see me??!" i said.
i was ignored, so i tried again, "excuse me?! you obviously saw me
because you honked. i was in my lane of traffic. what you just did was
illegal!"
finally he turned to me and said, "what are you doing in that lane?
you don't belong there."
the light changed and i rode in front of the bus in the rightmost lane
while he tailed immediately behind me and then sped up to pass me,
only to pinch me to the curb once again at the corner of washington
and 6th avenue. this block was my street to turn left on so i went
around him once again and yelled that i'd be reporting him and he
yelled "you're lucky you're not dead.""
Your busdriver could and should be cited for reckless behavior and
attempted assault with a deadly weapon. This behavior is
unnacceptable.
Sincerely,
---------
ugh.... thanks, bus number 5076 driver between arlington and 6th ave on washington boulevard at 4:33 pm on october, 22nd. thanks for increasing my already cynical view of angeleno drivers.
I'm filing an official complaint against the driver of bus 5076 at
approximately 4:35 PM on October 22nd.
The following is a synopsis of the events which I am publishing on my
blog and making extremely clear to everyone I can possibly spread the
information to:
"ten minutes ago i was riding my bike within half a mile of home when
bus 5076 of the los angeles metro public transit pinched me into the
curb after honking at me. i was riding as far right as i could on
washington boulevard, which at that block consists of three lanes
going each direction. the other two lanes were entirely free, yet the
busdriver honked at me (an unnecesary and startling action) and then
literally inched around me and pulled his front end to the curb
without loading or unloading any passengers. i rode around the bus to
the left and pulled up to his window (which was open) and grabbed the
side of the bus while remaining seated on my bike and attempting to
speak to the busdriver.
"didn't you see me??!" i said.
i was ignored, so i tried again, "excuse me?! you obviously saw me
because you honked. i was in my lane of traffic. what you just did was
illegal!"
finally he turned to me and said, "what are you doing in that lane?
you don't belong there."
the light changed and i rode in front of the bus in the rightmost lane
while he tailed immediately behind me and then sped up to pass me,
only to pinch me to the curb once again at the corner of washington
and 6th avenue. this block was my street to turn left on so i went
around him once again and yelled that i'd be reporting him and he
yelled "you're lucky you're not dead.""
Your busdriver could and should be cited for reckless behavior and
attempted assault with a deadly weapon. This behavior is
unnacceptable.
Sincerely,
---------
ugh.... thanks, bus number 5076 driver between arlington and 6th ave on washington boulevard at 4:33 pm on october, 22nd. thanks for increasing my already cynical view of angeleno drivers.
a friend of mine
is labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org labikepolo.org
Friday, October 19, 2007
"Deadline" by Dean Young
i've been re-reading this poem quite a bit the last several days. it is from dean young's newest book, EMBRYOYO. enjoy.
Swimming pool full of brown leaves.
The jury files back into the courtroom.
The burning fuse wriggles like a mouse's tail.
Cymbals. Tadpoles. The bearded gods
who battled dragons with big hammers.
Arriving at the cafe, men with hatchets
in brown shirts. It is the time of fascism
then strangers kissing in the streets
and the time of fascism is over. For now.
The calm of the sea then an armada.
Certainly the meteor is on a deadline,
soon to begin a more sedentary life.
Oh those wild years on a deadline,
the morning full of headache looking
in a mirror that looks into a mirror
where infinitely repeated is an apple tree
on a deadline, its fruit must be finished
by first frost, its buds not open before
the last. Halmet on a deadline but
not sure which or where. Athens
on a Sparta deadline, swimming suit
an overcoat. Hurry calls one son
to the other across the country.
Running through the airport, running
even on motorized walkways,
it's best not to carry much.
A great doubt then a great hope
then a certainty. Cymbals.
The longest day of the year,
sunset peacock flash. Ash.
In its DNA, each cell is on a curfew,
lights out, on tables the chairs
turned upside down. I missed my chance
with her thinks the boy hoping not
but being right. Never again
to be alone with her on the porch
cricket cricket cricket
while her boyfriend misbehaves
and a vengeful need ripens in her
as does a third watermelon daiquiri.
The ice melts in the glass, clinking.
The puppy is gone and in its place a dog
then the dog is gone. Friendship
on a deadline, suntans, milk.
The daughter helps her mother up the stairs.
You thought you'd never heal
but you almost did.
The little cart creaks down the street
pulled by a man talking to himself.
Swimming pool full of brown leaves.
The jury files back into the courtroom.
The burning fuse wriggles like a mouse's tail.
Cymbals. Tadpoles. The bearded gods
who battled dragons with big hammers.
Arriving at the cafe, men with hatchets
in brown shirts. It is the time of fascism
then strangers kissing in the streets
and the time of fascism is over. For now.
The calm of the sea then an armada.
Certainly the meteor is on a deadline,
soon to begin a more sedentary life.
Oh those wild years on a deadline,
the morning full of headache looking
in a mirror that looks into a mirror
where infinitely repeated is an apple tree
on a deadline, its fruit must be finished
by first frost, its buds not open before
the last. Halmet on a deadline but
not sure which or where. Athens
on a Sparta deadline, swimming suit
an overcoat. Hurry calls one son
to the other across the country.
Running through the airport, running
even on motorized walkways,
it's best not to carry much.
A great doubt then a great hope
then a certainty. Cymbals.
The longest day of the year,
sunset peacock flash. Ash.
In its DNA, each cell is on a curfew,
lights out, on tables the chairs
turned upside down. I missed my chance
with her thinks the boy hoping not
but being right. Never again
to be alone with her on the porch
cricket cricket cricket
while her boyfriend misbehaves
and a vengeful need ripens in her
as does a third watermelon daiquiri.
The ice melts in the glass, clinking.
The puppy is gone and in its place a dog
then the dog is gone. Friendship
on a deadline, suntans, milk.
The daughter helps her mother up the stairs.
You thought you'd never heal
but you almost did.
The little cart creaks down the street
pulled by a man talking to himself.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
More Dim (and not)
A piece of hope in my head from those weekends away, along with pieces of wine and a part of a piece of a passing day and a man in a Jaguar doesn’t look any happier than me and that’s not big or small. Another trip to the airport is a piece brought here and a piece to the past and a distortion of time and pieces of space and pieces of time overlapping a lean-to I helped build in my youth against writers that are against tattoos.
An inopportune moment, but I feel like writing and sometimes those moments are best.
Spent today eeking out an existence inside a small piece of me, stealing away a valuable day.
We communicate through our accomplishments. A subtle shift is a season. A long weekend splicing my desires splitting my excitement into what am I doing with myselves but hold strong hold steady hold on anyway. The weather is even fitting for that. Fresh ink on my skin it’s almost clicking. Almost familiar. Stop gazing off it won’t just happen it’s only almost familiar don’t push it a change in light and it’s all skimmed off the top. Don’t push it. Today’s a lingering day it’s a let things happen and when you breath smell just a little bit more through the nostrils and pretend to pick up hints of apple blossoms (even if you’ve never smelled them).
Where were you when
When the neighborhood opened up?
When the shingles spilled from the roofs?
When the real people all emerged from their routines and the hermits rushed from the hills to rejoice (wisdom passed down)?
Where were you for all this and more (still standing in line?) and where were you when I was reminiscing about days spent lingering and I was left to linger all alone?
An inopportune moment, but I feel like writing and sometimes those moments are best.
Spent today eeking out an existence inside a small piece of me, stealing away a valuable day.
We communicate through our accomplishments. A subtle shift is a season. A long weekend splicing my desires splitting my excitement into what am I doing with myselves but hold strong hold steady hold on anyway. The weather is even fitting for that. Fresh ink on my skin it’s almost clicking. Almost familiar. Stop gazing off it won’t just happen it’s only almost familiar don’t push it a change in light and it’s all skimmed off the top. Don’t push it. Today’s a lingering day it’s a let things happen and when you breath smell just a little bit more through the nostrils and pretend to pick up hints of apple blossoms (even if you’ve never smelled them).
Where were you when
When the neighborhood opened up?
When the shingles spilled from the roofs?
When the real people all emerged from their routines and the hermits rushed from the hills to rejoice (wisdom passed down)?
Where were you for all this and more (still standing in line?) and where were you when I was reminiscing about days spent lingering and I was left to linger all alone?
Saturday, October 13, 2007
last night
i really had a ball [or something like that. remember that kid 'n play song?] anyhow.. saw beirut at the avalon and the shit was awesome. people were sort of dancing and the energy was real good. inspiring, creative young musicians, even for someone who doesn't aspire to play. i thought of this poem i wrote a few months ago:
Better Than Dancing
An afternoon can be an argument for a city.
A night at work can be another late night.
A dance with friends can be magic and a dance with strangers can be confiding and can be the widest of smiles and sharing sweat and can also be forgetting.
Taking a step back can be knowing how it feels to be missed and can also be lonely and can be taking a step in the wrong direction and also taking a step back can be taking a step back.
Spending $200 can be accidents and can be hellish and can also be good causes can be coffee food sharing and can be a weekend away.
Reading can be realizing what you don't know and can also be boring and being bored can be the result of hearing your mind tell itself the same things just to hear them another time to make them more real and that can be dangerous because enough of that makes a fact, or can, and can prime you to think one-directionally.
Writing can be connecting and scouring and being apart and some of us grew up hearing we could be anything and some hear that we still can.
Better Than Dancing
An afternoon can be an argument for a city.
A night at work can be another late night.
A dance with friends can be magic and a dance with strangers can be confiding and can be the widest of smiles and sharing sweat and can also be forgetting.
Taking a step back can be knowing how it feels to be missed and can also be lonely and can be taking a step in the wrong direction and also taking a step back can be taking a step back.
Spending $200 can be accidents and can be hellish and can also be good causes can be coffee food sharing and can be a weekend away.
Reading can be realizing what you don't know and can also be boring and being bored can be the result of hearing your mind tell itself the same things just to hear them another time to make them more real and that can be dangerous because enough of that makes a fact, or can, and can prime you to think one-directionally.
Writing can be connecting and scouring and being apart and some of us grew up hearing we could be anything and some hear that we still can.
Monday, October 8, 2007
an armadillo experiment
[a more literal post than i usually present]
i recently had to buy some new tires and, with a strong recommendation from the men at orange20, i went with the specialized armadillo city tire [my rear is the folding version and my front is the non-folding [not purposefully]]. i've had best success with the bontrager race lite hard case, but heard good things about the armadillo and wanted to support a smaller, track-oriented shop. four days into riding the front tire [non-folding], i'm riding down w. sunset blvd. and my tire completely splits. tire is flat within twenty seconds and i find a gash through the tire in the tube about two centimeters across [bigger than i've encountered with the exception of a tube blowing up]. now i'm left with a $40 barely-used tire that's shit to me. luckily tattiya and i had gone on a ride [oh yeah, check out http://ridearc.org/] and she'd driven to meet me in silver lake, so we were near her car and drove home. fast forward three days. being a tight-ass and refusing to succumb to a small gash, i decide to try to fix this thing.
step a: buy adhesive.
step b: apply adhesive to inside of gash, both on the inner and outer parts of the tire.
step c: place a folded dollar bill across the inside tire over the gash, also using adhesive to secure the bill.
step d: wait.
i have a feeling this isn't going to work. so for now my opinion is that specialized's claim that the armadillo is "puncture-proof" is very false.
in other news,
remember the summer?
[location@@myspace.com/berdhousegallery]
i recently had to buy some new tires and, with a strong recommendation from the men at orange20, i went with the specialized armadillo city tire [my rear is the folding version and my front is the non-folding [not purposefully]]. i've had best success with the bontrager race lite hard case, but heard good things about the armadillo and wanted to support a smaller, track-oriented shop. four days into riding the front tire [non-folding], i'm riding down w. sunset blvd. and my tire completely splits. tire is flat within twenty seconds and i find a gash through the tire in the tube about two centimeters across [bigger than i've encountered with the exception of a tube blowing up]. now i'm left with a $40 barely-used tire that's shit to me. luckily tattiya and i had gone on a ride [oh yeah, check out http://ridearc.org/] and she'd driven to meet me in silver lake, so we were near her car and drove home. fast forward three days. being a tight-ass and refusing to succumb to a small gash, i decide to try to fix this thing.
step a: buy adhesive.
step b: apply adhesive to inside of gash, both on the inner and outer parts of the tire.
step c: place a folded dollar bill across the inside tire over the gash, also using adhesive to secure the bill.
step d: wait.
i have a feeling this isn't going to work. so for now my opinion is that specialized's claim that the armadillo is "puncture-proof" is very false.
in other news,
remember the summer?
[location@@myspace.com/berdhousegallery]
an october glory
this weekend tattiya and i went to solvang
(i.e. the movie sideways), where we consumed delicious cheeses
and tasted many wines and got crunx in the beautiful afternoon backdrop of the dutchish small towns and the rows upon rows of grapes (not simultaneously).
highlights:
-watching resident evil: extinction, which i snuck a bottle of wine into (and we were also fortunate enough to see the chubby kid behind the front desk making out--with his ass on the counter, mind you--with his girl on our way out of the movie). oh, the movie was fun too.
-visiting foley's winery.
-receiving foley's winery's free wine glasses.
-taking foley's winery's employee's atv ride, courteously offered by a denim-clad wine protector to your young couple when we stumbled upon a patch of grapes (meaning to picnic near them, of course) which had recently been sprayed with chemicals. the caring employee gave us a gorgeous ride through the fields on the back of his four-wheeler. awesome city.
-listening to so much creedence clearwater revival. i'm still of the firm belief that it's the supreme california soundtrack-to-our-lives music. i banged on the roof.
-driving around the countryside (while banging on the roof).
-battling in scrabble-off october2k7:
round one. i win:
round two. i lose:
glorious end result:
.
-watching sideways went we got home in order to re-live our experience and look at the places we had been to replicated by the motion picture.
(i.e. the movie sideways), where we consumed delicious cheesesand tasted many wines and got crunx in the beautiful afternoon backdrop of the dutchish small towns and the rows upon rows of grapes (not simultaneously).
highlights:
-watching resident evil: extinction, which i snuck a bottle of wine into (and we were also fortunate enough to see the chubby kid behind the front desk making out--with his ass on the counter, mind you--with his girl on our way out of the movie). oh, the movie was fun too.
-visiting foley's winery.
-receiving foley's winery's free wine glasses.
-taking foley's winery's employee's atv ride, courteously offered by a denim-clad wine protector to your young couple when we stumbled upon a patch of grapes (meaning to picnic near them, of course) which had recently been sprayed with chemicals. the caring employee gave us a gorgeous ride through the fields on the back of his four-wheeler. awesome city.
-listening to so much creedence clearwater revival. i'm still of the firm belief that it's the supreme california soundtrack-to-our-lives music. i banged on the roof.
-driving around the countryside (while banging on the roof).
-battling in scrabble-off october2k7:
round one. i win:
round two. i lose:
glorious end result:
.-watching sideways went we got home in order to re-live our experience and look at the places we had been to replicated by the motion picture.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
sending another friend off...
like i have mentioned in a previous post, "been busy y'all".
transitions, changes, readjustments, future.
shit is getting real for everyone it seems,
even outside of the world of winks and handshakes.
i.ve recently been blessed with having more work after the longest drought.
many hobbies-turned-potentials rising above the surface...prospering.
demanding my time, energy, sacrifice....spreading myself thin....and stressing myself thin [literally].
all the while not having a chance to focus on the reason why i fell in love with the things that i do...because it.s moving at a blurring pace.
out of guilt i reach into the bag of obligation and hope to pick out inspiration and motivation.
like earl mentioned below, people i love are gone. but i am PROUD.
recently i helped my friend Ben move to Seattle to jump-start his clean slate.
we drove from Madison to Seattle in a day and a half.
along the way i brought one of my beloved cameras and was afforded the chance to rediscover the reason why i love the sound of the shutter.
i hope you will enjoy my exploration of textures, colors, and space:
transitions, changes, readjustments, future.
shit is getting real for everyone it seems,
even outside of the world of winks and handshakes.
i.ve recently been blessed with having more work after the longest drought.
many hobbies-turned-potentials rising above the surface...prospering.
demanding my time, energy, sacrifice....spreading myself thin....and stressing myself thin [literally].
all the while not having a chance to focus on the reason why i fell in love with the things that i do...because it.s moving at a blurring pace.
out of guilt i reach into the bag of obligation and hope to pick out inspiration and motivation.
like earl mentioned below, people i love are gone. but i am PROUD.
recently i helped my friend Ben move to Seattle to jump-start his clean slate.
we drove from Madison to Seattle in a day and a half.
along the way i brought one of my beloved cameras and was afforded the chance to rediscover the reason why i love the sound of the shutter.
i hope you will enjoy my exploration of textures, colors, and space:
all of you
in not letting the hard times destroy your life, you must always look at what you have. this summer has been the most difficult time in my life; some of the deepest of all friends left, moving into and renovating my new home, working my ass off to make ends meet, getting slaughtered by a truck, lost friendships/hard forgivenesses, and actually falling in love. the weak would make rash decisions and falter. the stronger ones mend and build. i am tired of having to constantly reassemble myself.
end all be all, i am still here. there are airplanes and phones to reach those that crave friendships. i still have my two legs to carry me where i need to go. i have a mind and hands that create and a heart that will always love. this is for all of you that understand me and take actions to be there and you know that with all that i have, i'll do the same. thank you for being you.
i'm going to spend the rest of my weekend redoing my portfolio and resume. all the while knowing how lucky i really am.
end all be all, i am still here. there are airplanes and phones to reach those that crave friendships. i still have my two legs to carry me where i need to go. i have a mind and hands that create and a heart that will always love. this is for all of you that understand me and take actions to be there and you know that with all that i have, i'll do the same. thank you for being you.
i'm going to spend the rest of my weekend redoing my portfolio and resume. all the while knowing how lucky i really am.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Been Busy Y'all.
So recently many things have come up in my life which has made it hectic and exciting. I.ll deliver the goods on here in a bit....but until then watch Thomas Edison do his thing.
winks and handshakes as coordination devices...
search "winks handshakes" in google and what comes up?
"smiles, winks, and handshakes as coordination devices," [sociological/psychologicalesque article headings] amongst other things... unintentional, i must say, but fitting.
share your associative wonders with us and describe your reaction or response to the words, "winks and handshakes."
love,
"smiles, winks, and handshakes as coordination devices," [sociological/psychologicalesque article headings] amongst other things... unintentional, i must say, but fitting.
share your associative wonders with us and describe your reaction or response to the words, "winks and handshakes."
love,
Friday, September 14, 2007
An Ambiguous Embrace
EDIT: TITLE... feeling pretty spacey today. someone tell me i'm not crazy.
An Ambiguous Embrace (a draft, as most others posted are... Phill- I wrote the first part awhile ago).
Spent today keeping in touch because,
like so many other things,
that’s an exercise in understanding difference
and self
and crucial just like “What does it mean to be fastinated with chandeliers?”
or “How do I travel?”
is “How do I treat the past?”
so it’s an exercise.
We spent the night throwing
peanut M&Ms and tearing apart our admirations.
Another night today
and it’s kind of nice (this sounds like something else
I wrote, but I guess I have to get more used to that)
to not be expected too much to just quietly ride and go
to a movie
and to imagine the stories
in the heads
of some of the Angelenos sitting
sipping coffee and their heads jittering around
They can’t sit still, these writers.
Let me tell you. Their eyes! They wander… Poor enterprisers.
This, and a few rushed days…
Where did I leave off? And how do we judge a bit of progress…
To do: write a list of things to do.
and then go to the bank and take a nap and then rid the world of awkwardness and stop looking for new music (constancy!) and be comfortable with what you have and think about walking on the beach
and think about the world of professional writers
and stop looking around and stop feeling disconnected and start writing about sex like everyone else to show you don’t shy and start packing a lunch and sew those jeans at the cuff and stop (?) asking what it means.
A day in shifts: morning and evening darknesses (I should only be awake for one of those).
And now it’s school-time again, think of:
fall/”how was your summer?”s/Labor Day county fairs/responses indicating character shifts/a matter of time and
an indication that it’s time for some things to end in order for others to begin.
An Ambiguous Embrace (a draft, as most others posted are... Phill- I wrote the first part awhile ago).
Spent today keeping in touch because,
like so many other things,
that’s an exercise in understanding difference
and self
and crucial just like “What does it mean to be fastinated with chandeliers?”
or “How do I travel?”
is “How do I treat the past?”
so it’s an exercise.
We spent the night throwing
peanut M&Ms and tearing apart our admirations.
Another night today
and it’s kind of nice (this sounds like something else
I wrote, but I guess I have to get more used to that)
to not be expected too much to just quietly ride and go
to a movie
and to imagine the stories
in the heads
of some of the Angelenos sitting
sipping coffee and their heads jittering around
They can’t sit still, these writers.
Let me tell you. Their eyes! They wander… Poor enterprisers.
This, and a few rushed days…
Where did I leave off? And how do we judge a bit of progress…
To do: write a list of things to do.
and then go to the bank and take a nap and then rid the world of awkwardness and stop looking for new music (constancy!) and be comfortable with what you have and think about walking on the beach
and think about the world of professional writers
and stop looking around and stop feeling disconnected and start writing about sex like everyone else to show you don’t shy and start packing a lunch and sew those jeans at the cuff and stop (?) asking what it means.
A day in shifts: morning and evening darknesses (I should only be awake for one of those).
And now it’s school-time again, think of:
fall/”how was your summer?”s/Labor Day county fairs/responses indicating character shifts/a matter of time and
an indication that it’s time for some things to end in order for others to begin.
http://www.labikepolo.org/
http://www.labikepolo.org/ is up and still coming. also, myspace.com/bikepolola.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
today (actually, yesterday now) i
consumed a french press of coffee, a machiatto, and an espresso (along with some non-coffee items).
spent some time at choke (http://www.chokemotorcycleshop.com/), where i had the machiatto (^) and took in the scenery. cool spot.
took my trusty 101z wax lee jeans to have the zipper replaced. boo.
bought some cheap shoes from the surplus store on w. sunset at hyperion.
read some umberto eco.
watched collateral.
///////\\\\\\\\
now that i'm writing this a day later it doesn't seem as interesting as it was yesterday when i thought to post about my day. i think the initial idea was to mention choke and to think about how i spend a day off from work..
spent some time at choke (http://www.chokemotorcycleshop.com/), where i had the machiatto (^) and took in the scenery. cool spot.
took my trusty 101z wax lee jeans to have the zipper replaced. boo.
bought some cheap shoes from the surplus store on w. sunset at hyperion.
read some umberto eco.
watched collateral.
///////\\\\\\\\
now that i'm writing this a day later it doesn't seem as interesting as it was yesterday when i thought to post about my day. i think the initial idea was to mention choke and to think about how i spend a day off from work..
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
intelli.la and the building and silver lake
[[borrowed from tonx.org]]some pics of where i work not taken by me.
i also discovered a very random connection today. many months ago my [then] roommate ben, a floor manager [then] for urban outfitters in madison, wi, brought home a lovely book [
]which i spent some lengthy time perusing and marvelling over. at this time in my life i'd been kind of daydreaming about the possibilities of the year-to-come and l.a. had fallen amongst the other prospects. my friends at drunken butterfly, west coast natives, advised me that if i were going to move to l.a. that silver lake was the place for me.. so then this book came about and i was pretty awed, but felt pretty distant at the same time [sort of like how i feel when i read the magazine DWELL.. you know, amazing houses, but no conception whatsoever of actually living in one of them]. so then upon beginning to work at intelligentsia in silver lake, i was asked several times by customers about who designed the space and was informed by the baristas and other workers that the architect's name is, "barbara bestor," so that's what i started telling customers.
then just now i was reading owner doug zell's blog and found bestor's website and saw that she wrote the book i had become interested in so many months ago. oh connections..
fame
saw these guys [from FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS on hbo] yesterday at intelligentsia:
the one on the left also just did a movie called EAGLE VS. SHARK [http://www.eaglevsshark.net/]. can someone give me their real names?
this one's pretty funny too:
anyhow.. it's funny because i've been thinking a bit about how some people i see from day to day spend their time and/or make a living and how it can feel to know that ''''famous'''' people live and work around me.
the one on the left also just did a movie called EAGLE VS. SHARK [http://www.eaglevsshark.net/]. can someone give me their real names?
this one's pretty funny too:
anyhow.. it's funny because i've been thinking a bit about how some people i see from day to day spend their time and/or make a living and how it can feel to know that ''''famous'''' people live and work around me.
Friday, September 7, 2007
Labor Day Bike Polo Tourney in Los Angeles
[me trying to dribble in the air]
The rest of Sean's pics
and Steve?s pics.
EDIT 9/11: and another photo set from the bikerowave tourney.
Matt's team took first and lots of people came out. At the end they played AMERICAN FLYERS but I was zonked out so I went home (plus Tattiya was rafting in Bakersfield and some kids broke into their car and jacked a bunch of their shit so I was freaking out about that).
Los Angeles bike polo is gaining momentum.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
business casual and white walls
i started teaching again yesterday. it's pretty unnerving when you become responsible for what people need to learn. worse enough when impressions count and one must make themself trustworthy of their position. however, it's pretty damn cool being able to shape people's lives.i did these renderings two years ago and miss the process, and most importantly, the product of design. the things that we allow to encompass our lives affect greatly those around us and mostly give validation to our actions in the future. i'm going to start looking for a design job for the mere sake that i want to create bigger things and as cliche as it may be, at least make a better life for others.
got lots of fine tuning and work to do, so if i don't see anyone, it's because i'm balls deep into my portfolio. plus i need to fulfill my insatiable need for beer, coffee, and cigarettes.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
August
Faces and spaces
what does it mean to be settled
anyway?
and a buck’s exploding on my arm
in my head
anyway.
I still don’t believe in fate
(besides, ashtrays don’t do much good with this wind)
anyway.
Forty hours a week yeah sure why not
take that to go yeah sure why not
ride across L.A. yeah sure
meet up when you’re in town why not
keeping it concealed yeah
stay here for a bit sure
wishing things were different why
hold my hand yes please do
not.
Some people speak with their hands
and some sit and watch.
Where do we what do we get here how did
that happen?
And “so this is just something temporary?” (you have no idea)
so then where’s rent coming from (no idea) what
do you think when you hear _________
and what makes a day
a bad one?
(what day of the week is it?)
everything has to wait, right? (right)
All my things
are missing but three days ago
I was in a movie.
And then, the writer reading.
“Why don’t we each read a few pages and then
reconvene?”
“Sounds good.”
How are you really? You seem to repeat yourself more
now. Really I’m fine
really, thanks. Yeah, sorry though that was just a lull you caught me in last night.
I was about to write down that it’s funny how I don’t feel the need to have my phone near me when you are (then a slew across my face of days marked forever).
Why is it important that I spent Sunday near the ocean and how do I keep this going now that I’ve come clean?
Didn’t sleep much last night and I’m seeing spots
ocassionally my right
finger is numb (is that symbollic?)
I guess I’ll just keep picking
up because I’m forever
leaving off stepped
into the cheese store today (and later saw two old men playing chess)
and I wanted to taste everything.
Here everyone can pretend to be beautiful. Cue it up.
An evening can be telling
the truth
and that can bend the imagination
in ways it wasn’t ready or willing
and that can lead to wakeful nights
watching eclipses against yard lamps
through eyes looking for something bigger
to believe in—searching for relativity—and then
nextdays that are really full of shit
and Tuesdays that don’t deserve a name.
I put my book down because there’s too much to
say today to have time
or energy for that… An outdoor scene and a bus murmurs to downtown and Mexican horns light the heat another three degrees in the right direction. Look at the kids.
I like to be alone (always on my mind) but I’m tired now and too busy talking to myself to write poems
too busy asking rhetorical
questions
to write
poems
a harmonica unused at home bridled by
the real hours of the day and new! Coming soon! Future
attractions include:
“Jared goes home and rekindles a relationship with his family”
followed by
“A poet who drinks”
and
“A visit to the wilderness, a simple camping trip with a love” in which our hero comes to terms with his sentimental stacks and buys a new pair of sunglasses
and
“He finally gets settled, starts publishing consistently” and makes enough money to travel: a cool one that explores movements and also with hints about what it can mean to be
smoothing out, with hints of a child named August in the previews for upcoming features.
what does it mean to be settled
anyway?
and a buck’s exploding on my arm
in my head
anyway.
I still don’t believe in fate
(besides, ashtrays don’t do much good with this wind)
anyway.
Forty hours a week yeah sure why not
take that to go yeah sure why not
ride across L.A. yeah sure
meet up when you’re in town why not
keeping it concealed yeah
stay here for a bit sure
wishing things were different why
hold my hand yes please do
not.
Some people speak with their hands
and some sit and watch.
Where do we what do we get here how did
that happen?
And “so this is just something temporary?” (you have no idea)
so then where’s rent coming from (no idea) what
do you think when you hear _________
and what makes a day
a bad one?
(what day of the week is it?)
everything has to wait, right? (right)
All my things
are missing but three days ago
I was in a movie.
And then, the writer reading.
“Why don’t we each read a few pages and then
reconvene?”
“Sounds good.”
How are you really? You seem to repeat yourself more
now. Really I’m fine
really, thanks. Yeah, sorry though that was just a lull you caught me in last night.
I was about to write down that it’s funny how I don’t feel the need to have my phone near me when you are (then a slew across my face of days marked forever).
Why is it important that I spent Sunday near the ocean and how do I keep this going now that I’ve come clean?
Didn’t sleep much last night and I’m seeing spots
ocassionally my right
finger is numb (is that symbollic?)
I guess I’ll just keep picking
up because I’m forever
leaving off stepped
into the cheese store today (and later saw two old men playing chess)
and I wanted to taste everything.
Here everyone can pretend to be beautiful. Cue it up.
An evening can be telling
the truth
and that can bend the imagination
in ways it wasn’t ready or willing
and that can lead to wakeful nights
watching eclipses against yard lamps
through eyes looking for something bigger
to believe in—searching for relativity—and then
nextdays that are really full of shit
and Tuesdays that don’t deserve a name.
I put my book down because there’s too much to
say today to have time
or energy for that… An outdoor scene and a bus murmurs to downtown and Mexican horns light the heat another three degrees in the right direction. Look at the kids.
I like to be alone (always on my mind) but I’m tired now and too busy talking to myself to write poems
too busy asking rhetorical
questions
to write
poems
a harmonica unused at home bridled by
the real hours of the day and new! Coming soon! Future
attractions include:
“Jared goes home and rekindles a relationship with his family”
followed by
“A poet who drinks”
and
“A visit to the wilderness, a simple camping trip with a love” in which our hero comes to terms with his sentimental stacks and buys a new pair of sunglasses
and
“He finally gets settled, starts publishing consistently” and makes enough money to travel: a cool one that explores movements and also with hints about what it can mean to be
smoothing out, with hints of a child named August in the previews for upcoming features.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
9.1.07
[wrote this this morning but wasn't able to post it til now..]
let the lapd be. yeah.. last night tattiya and i were a block from home on our bikes
when we passed a cop car at a light who was turning without a signal
and for some reason i felt it necessary to say, "blinker," after which
the car turned around and pulled us over in front of our house. they
were serious. very serious. but i got off scott-free and was left
with a reminder that i shouldn't say shit to a cop about traffic
regulations when i don't have a front light or brakes...
anyhow, that was about six hours ago and now i'm about to go to work
and i'm listening to george strait. "amarillo by morning," anyone?
intelligentsia has been going really well. best coffee i've ever had.
happy almost september.
[and now..]
ran into vuki while tattiya and i were eating at bay city deli in santa monica tonight. so damn random! ugh.. ok, tired now. i've been writing and i'll try to post this weekend.
let the lapd be. yeah.. last night tattiya and i were a block from home on our bikes
when we passed a cop car at a light who was turning without a signal
and for some reason i felt it necessary to say, "blinker," after which
the car turned around and pulled us over in front of our house. they
were serious. very serious. but i got off scott-free and was left
with a reminder that i shouldn't say shit to a cop about traffic
regulations when i don't have a front light or brakes...
anyhow, that was about six hours ago and now i'm about to go to work
and i'm listening to george strait. "amarillo by morning," anyone?
intelligentsia has been going really well. best coffee i've ever had.
happy almost september.
[and now..]
ran into vuki while tattiya and i were eating at bay city deli in santa monica tonight. so damn random! ugh.. ok, tired now. i've been writing and i'll try to post this weekend.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
bike polo and work and life
we had our first polo match on sunday the 19th at pan pacific park... a good amount of people came out and i'm excited to see where this will go!
see the rest of tattiya's pics.
i also just quit my first job at lark cake shop and am hoping to snag a spot at the new http://www.intelligentsiacoffee.com/ (based in chicago) that just opened in silver lake.
[[[update 8.26:: got the job full-time at intelligentsia. it's a pretty cool company. for real.]]]
things are good..
it was great to see ben and jan this weekend.
see the rest of tattiya's pics.
i also just quit my first job at lark cake shop and am hoping to snag a spot at the new http://www.intelligentsiacoffee.com/ (based in chicago) that just opened in silver lake.
[[[update 8.26:: got the job full-time at intelligentsia. it's a pretty cool company. for real.]]]
things are good..
it was great to see ben and jan this weekend.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
842 E. Dayton St.
without this, i am screwed for my entire day...
--------------------------------------------------this has been keeping earl and myself busy
[our new place under construction]
the kitchen
looking into the dining room from the kitchen
looking into the living room from the dining room
earl [the ceiling aint that low
looking into the loo from the dining room
my bedroom
earl.s bedroom
updates soon.
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