February 2012
3 posts
“the atoms that make up your body were once forged inside stars.”
– i like that thought. a lot.
poems like this make me itchy to get out again
At the Seven-Mile Ranch, Comstock, Texas
I live like I know what I’m doing. When I hand the horses a square of hay, when I walk the road of stones or chew on cactus pulp, there’s a drumming behind me, the day opens up to let me pass through. I know the truth, how always I’m following each small sign that appears. This sheep that materialized behind a clump of cenizo bushes ...
January 2012
1 post
digital minimalism
I’m noticing that a lot of people in my life are cutting back on the obsessive go go go.
and no, I’m not talking about the hippies that I’ve met on the road who could truly care less about the latest smart phone.
I’m talking about my full-fledged OCD coastally-minded digerati clan, many of whom are cutting back on social networks, cutting back on time online and...
December 2011
19 posts
“typical morning: i wake up feeling under the weather. my father gives me pigeon...”
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home to home
a few days ago I rolled into Florida to my parent’s house. as many of you know, my father is a pigeon racer and lives in a town in Florida where all the pigeon flyers from around the world retire to engage in some hardcore pigeon racing until they die. i’m not kidding.
I happened to arrive right before the big race of the year - the Gulf Coast Classic. People come in from all over to...
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“woken up by the rooster crowing. yup, I’m at the pigeon farm.”
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French Quarter
this morning I’m waking up in the French Quarter after being plucked from the swamps by a flame-haired singer and her spiritual advisor.
back up.
two nights ago I found myself at a campground/state park in the swamps of Louisiana. apparently - according to the ranger, the singer, the locals I’ve met since - I was in the swamp swamps. and apparently, the ranger used to be a tug...
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Watchcoyote morning. 6am.
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so I was listening to the radio this morning on the ranch roads of southeastern Texas and people were calling in to answer the DJ’s question: what was your best Christmas present ever? Three women callers, these three answers: a 30 foot mobile home, a four wheeler and the last woman said, a cow.
I love this place.
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Watchwhen traveling alone, one gets very good at amusing oneself.
“me to waitress: “I’ve never been in Louisiana before and I’m...”
awesome campground just off a bayou in Louisiana tonight. again, god bless my Hunter wellies.
“god bless my Hunter wellies.”
“I’m lying in the truck in a forest somewhere in Texas watching the...”
route 70, New Mexico
today, around 11am (that hopeful time of day), I found myself barreling down a New Mexico two lane highway. the road was sun-burnt black and stretched endlessly ahead of and behind me. to either side was a sea of dusty desert, populated by seen-it-all cactuses and rough weeds. on the distance on both sides were mellow mountains, too far away to be defined beyond their outlines. it’s the...
a letter to crazy Heidi from (the not often heard...
dear crazy bitch,
here we are again. I mean, of course technically we’ve never been in this exact situation before, but here we are where sane people aren’t.
you laugh. but would it be too much to ask that we act like a normal person and hit up a HoJo’s instead of finding ourselves in the dark at 6pm on top of a mountain where the wind is gusting at 40 mph (and sounds like...
star light star bright
so I almost drove the truck into a lake
and I’m camping in the Tonto National Forest illegally, but besides that everything is really great.
right now I’m lying on the open gate of the truck looking up at the most ridiculous sky of stars and sucking in the dry desert air. how did I live until 32 years old and not understand just how crackling good desert air is?
I’m so...
November 2011
35 posts
a good poem for departure day
To feel, to feel, to feel.
Failing that, why live?
Might as well be a coffin
Drifting on a gray flood.
“The feel of not to feel” —
That counts, too.
Anguish is one clear
Sign we’re still here.
But we all need help.
The beloved’s there,
And the world also.
And then there’s the Book.
Poem after poem, song
Upon song. And all
With the same chorus:
“Wake up,...
vroom vroom
the morning sky yesterday in LA was insane. it looked like grapefruit had been smeared through light blue paint and I was up early enough that the palm trees were just silhouettes. I will miss LA, it’s been a good run here.
but the road calls, no wait, the road is howling and I’m jittery to get back on it. this morning I went to a car wash, popped the hood open, climbed up on the...
I’ve always looked at people that have read War & Peace with such awe: ”my god you’re tackling it aren’t you?”
right now it’s sitting in my lap, a 4 inch book made of paper thin pages. and it suddenly struck me that Tolstoy is the badass, not the reader. not sure why I’m suddenly realizing this right now…
i’m slow i guess.
some offices take coffee breaks; other dance with... →
just another day at BBH LA
Watchthere are some things that I am really good at. mechanical bull riding is not one of those things. (thanks @benpunkbrit for recording my humiliation)
after drinks at a perfectly acceptable place, @benpunkbrit hauled my ass to a bar with karaoke, a mechanical bull and drinks the size of small children. the LA randomness continues.
after a beautiful night at Disney Hall, @thaz7 and I stumble into a random drag show. couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.
i miss the truck. I miss it rumbling to life and being a good owner and letting it roam into its natural habitat of sand, air, dirt and wind. i miss the exposure of lying in the bed, watching my breath play out in frigid puffs and wondering if I’ll sleep when it’s so damn cold. i miss creaking awake against the morning chill and, once all is packed up in military fashion, pointing that...
oh LA
“how’s LA?”
well it’s been great actually, thank you very much.
“so does this mean you’re done with your trip?”
nope, not at all. for the past few years, I’ve mentally circled around LA like a feral beast growling about how much I hated it yet curious as to why a lot of my friends were ending up there. and what I find incredibly cool about being...
not a f*cking word pele cortizo-burgess
my friend is a hairdresser and has been talking to me about potentially being a model for a competition their salon is entering. I got this message from her today:
“Ok so the theme is Androgyny. The idea is to make the viewer question the models gender. I showed my co-workers your photos and we all agree you are perfect for our vision. So….I REALLY hope you can do it!!!”
but of...
new life project
i need to see the following performers before they die: Bette, Dolly, Cher, Barbra and Liza. i will be gunning after this. if anyone wants to join for any or all of this mini-adventure, do let me know.
11.11.11 update (thank you @americangrain): Joan.
Watchgorgeous time-lapse NYC by my friend @bunning
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“tick… tick… tick… 10,000 miles put on the Black Wolf since I...”
please watch this so we can talk about it →
thank you JG
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confessions of a born-again feminist
I was lucky to grow up with parents that took great satisfaction from raising a band of Valkyrie daughters: neither myself or my sisters are what you would call easily cowed. my father especially, largely because his mother was pretty much the badass of the ages, seemed to especially delight in anytime we took on something, anything out there and killed it - “just try and mess with my...
I mean of course. a not-crowded theater, open seats everywhere and who comes and sits right next to me and starts chatting me up? a gaggle of old gay men.
I swear I have a huge, flashing, glittered marquee above my head that says “Fag Hag”
“I’m at a movie theater in LA about to watch the live stream of Siegfried...”