Draw · the · Latch

Eve: "Well, I guess the only thing I really need is a harmonica."



Next week is the DJ Ali Gruber Michael Jackson Memorial Dance Party, the week after is Harry Potter, Broad's Arm Wrestling League championship and Street Fest. And Gemma's back in town. So much awesomeness. My life isn't boring, I am.

Morgan was a slice of peach pie served with an extra scoop of cinnamon ice cream. New York has been weeping all over me since we parted, today being the first respite of blue in awhile. Rosendale is cool gusts of hot wet floral air. The rail trail is even more chocolate-pudding-licious now, and I was to be caked with it today but for a broken bike chain. But of course I made cardboard fairyhouses instead because, duh, that's what I do. Seriously though, Morgan, my post-hostess etiquette is atrocious. I mean to call you and tell you that Louie is in love with you but I just did so I'll have to think of knew things to tell you but you are probably tired of my dork-voice for the time being anyway.

Also: shoot, guys... I guess I'm going to college?

the new glasses, new hair, marlene on the wall, and that mark you can barely see that shall henceforth be known as the tea stain.

Hello, old friend. It's been just a bit. But as for a brief update: plans are manifesting as concretely as my wobbly immature capriciousness will allow; I butchered my hair in a frenzy of self-consciousness—I think I will dye it copper; all I want to do is watch Pete & Pete; tonight I walked home from a bellyful of root beer float listening to Changes, and damn, that's my life.

i gotta try.

but what am i even doing?

Yesterday I was so miserable for no reason that I shut myself in Donna's bathroom and cried, but she finally noticed and was really sweet and made me coffee which is what I really needed. But today was sososososo much better. I went over to Aja and Eve's at 9 this morning with a bag of rhinestones and glitter and brickabrack and lil' girlfriend and I made a batch of fantastic easter eggs. Such a comfortable atmosphere of frantic crafting warms me to the core. We also hunted for fairies in the lightly flaking snow and ate macaroni and cheese while watching Jackie tap dance and had a mermaid drawing contest.

Afterwards I had avocado toast and two cups of coffee and a slice of Billie Holiday chocolate birthday cake at The Market. It tasted exactly the way she sings, which I know for a fact since Mike put on a Lady Day song just after I ordered. "I feel like I'm experiencing synesthesia!" I called from across the room. "That's fantastic! What's synesthesia?" was his reply. I ordered more coffee as an excuse to stick around and peered over my book as he tried to put together a mix of songs he thought I'd enjoy. I love love love boys who flirt with music. Especially when they do it well. I gave him one of the two eggs I kept: purple with an image of Elvis crowned with gold glitter and surrounded by puffy clouds. Jesus Elvis.

edit-- Knowing how zany Dan McCormack is (blonde curly wigs, baby doll limbs peeking out of his pockets, asking the models routinely to scream as loud as possible...) I brought a box of sparklers as a prop for long exposures. The class went gaga- until we set off the fire alarm and I had to wait outside in my robe for the fire department to come. hafgsajdhfdshfgsf.

I'm sorry we were both so tired and lost and aching full of holes that could not be filled with pastries, and that I wrapped you in flannel when you should have been in bed (though the evening turned out enjoyable after all.) But breathing in time to Old Friends, rasping Tom Waits with our real whiskey voices, smelling sunshine and bergamot oil on our hair and skin: I am happy to have spent my weekend thusly with you.

I need to stop being a papoosed little baby. I need somebody to kiss. Fuck it, I am so serious.

In an effort to promote the spirit of Spring, I've been pulling out my summer dresses and drinking my tea iced. Refusing to wear a coat out regardless of the actual temperature, because there is sun! I'm going to die of exposure. I don't care.

Monday night, after I crawled home from Ali and Louie's and a strenuous day of thrift store conquest, Sonya contacted me to tell me she's in town, and then drove all the way from Saugerties at midnight so that we could sit on my dirty floor—positively lousy with thread and tiny paper stars—and catch up. (That was a long sentence. I have no regard for grammar.)

I didn't get any sleep, but I did get some two-dollar breakfast the next morning, mmmm. I wish I could do more for Sonya, but all I can do is offer a bit of cheer... and really, how can you be unhappy when you have sunny-side eggs and sunny-side weather, Jackson Five and adorable puppy boys serving you coffee? I know I know I know it's only shallow comfort, but it's all I have to make me happy, and so oh, how I cling to it.

Speaking of, I just pulled out my little lemonade dress, and it's heady with the smell of sweet olive oil tortas and honey. I wish it was June, and Gemma and I were sitting in a patch of clovers, eating drunken goat cheese, drinking lavender jasmine iced tea and reading E.M. Forster out loud to each other. If I close my eyes and inhale, I'm right there.

The Morning Dumb-- Yoko Kikuchi




Cherbourg (KEXP Session)-- Beirut




Desafinado-- Antonio Carlos Jobim




Love Is Overtaking Me-- Arthur Russell




If You're Ready (Come Go With Me)-- The Staple Singers



If you understand the flow of this mix, you understand me.

I modeled yesterday for a photography workshop, entirely populated with paunchy old men. Already, I've decided that I prefer figure drawing modeling, because photography seems a bit too intimate, and, well...... I have the most unphotogenic breasts. I hate them.

One of the photographers was kind enough to send me a few of his favorite photos, and due to the previous statement, I've weeded out those with prominent breast.... exposure. Here are a couple that are left.
( safe-ish for work )

I awoke this morning with nary a sign of a hangover, after Jesse's wonderful birthday party last night. Nonetheless, I still played the part and nestled on the couch for quite awhile with cup after cup of coffee and warm filtered sunlight on my back. I've had quite a lot of work pile up due to the photoshoot yesterday knocking my schedule off of its axis, but then snickerdoodles were made and I grated nutmeg into my hair and filled my mouth with cinnamon. Now now now, if you pardon, those snickerdoodles are not going to eat themselves......

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I'm so so so cold. I feel like less than nothing.
(this helps.)

How do you feel? This is how I feel.

Good, yes, good. Fresh snow makes me feel clean and new. Walking home from the Market, full of tea and edamame and poetry, looking over the bridge to the ice floes below (colored peachy pink and lavender cream in the last slips of sunlight-- stretching and yawning across the creek like epic Arctic glaciers viewed from great heights).... all of this opens a latch inside. When I got home, I realized I had been gone for hours. Gemma called while I was stirring milk and honey into my cup way across the creek. We finally talked for the first time in a long time. We talked about mistakes made and dangerous spiders and all of the beautiful things we would cook for each other if we could be together. Burnt milk, custard tarts and carrots with caraway seeds. My phone died in mid-sentence, sadly. She's mailing me her diary, I'm mailing her Chinese poetry. Stretching across the great breadth of the country is a golden thread.


Listening to this song, mum said, "Amelia, his voice is as big as the Empire State building!" I smiled. She continued to stir the cake batter.

I had a wonderful evening, between sewing with Eve and reading mermaid lore to her in the glow of a conch shell nightlight, and the warbling kids with their accordions and casios at Market Market, ripping my heart out and putting it back in-- setting it pumping with the thumping of feet and floor toms. Oh, and the exquisite corpse shared between Carl Welden and myself. I think it's been said before, but Carl Welden is the #1 bar-none hands-down coolest person on the planet. The man has tusks. Tusks!

It's past time for me to get some sleep, but the winding down I took from a cup of Magic Mint tea has been counter-acted by a bar of Chili-Cherry chocolate. Tomorrow's a big day, after all, with promises of serious sledding action. I just forgot I made custard tarts this afternoon. I think I'll go munch one and will myself to sleep. I love love love. Just.... ug, love.