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| just for clarity, i switched to a google blog because i thought it was annoying that you had to have a xanga account to post comments. not that anyone leaves me comments anyway, but feel free to post away, all you unsubscribed.
new digs: http://zillathustra.blogspot.com
new photos up at: http://homepage.mac.com/l.b.g (album links at top)
bookmark em, bitches!
love,
miffy | | |
| In front of museum pieces I stand only inches. From such a distance the metaphor is lost and only paint remains. Meticulous or desperate, each stroke is as intended. I like to examine each in isolation— try to follow the path of the hand, of each hair of the brush. So wrapped up in a Lichtenstein, I forget myself and reach out, briefly touching the canvas where enamel and masking tape overlap. I jerk my hand back, shocked by my own action. No one noticed but I walked briskly to the next exhibit.
In front of a calotype I stand and an old man who smells of nutmeg steps beside me. I cannot see what he is wearing but as he pushes the button to illuminate the lightbox behind the frame, I can see every wrinkle in his face from the corner of my eye. Peering in a mere inch away from the piece, our cheeks are nearly touching. In the shadow of the ancient photograph we are both young and our stance, though so close, is not awkward. | | |
| goddamnit:
i carried that jar of cactus jelly from new mexico to california through the western seaboard back through the midwest to pittsburgh and then i drop it, five steps from its destined home in chicago, shattering it to exploded red gooey bits.
goddamnit.
sleep well, sweet cactus jelly. | | |
| an open letter to the city of pittsburgh:
tonight i got a voicemail from winston that was so sweet it brought tears to my eyes. it really reminded me that, for all the times you drove me mad pittsburgh, the friends you brought into my life taught me more than all my classes combined. i was still finding friends up to the moment i left. even the ones i met most recently became dear to me so quickly. the nights we talked from your cathedral sunsets til your misty morns, the nights we scaled rooftops to watch your speckled skyline shimmer. the rare days of blue sky we laid in your grass, climbed your boulders and swam in your river rapids.
i know i left in a rush. so many got half-assed goodbyes because i was too drained to even feel the emotions that overwhelmed. this summer has been a strange and often difficult one for me. even still, so many i've met in your throes keep their arms open for me to fall back in if i should ever need. so thank you. for these friendships and these memories, good and bad, fuzzy and clear. take care of those who still nestle in your twisted streets. if they ever need me, let them know i'm here.
i love you & all your children
to all, always
laura | | |
| i posted some pictures [pw bizzles] up of the past few days here in the chi-tizzle. this includes all mentioned in my last post.. the top of the hancock.. catching up at the apartment... sailing.. not included are the countless potential pictures of me sitting in my room reading job postings. fun funfun.
here's one:
right now im listening to my freshly shorn brother play his new guitar. we're hiding from maternal wrath. not as fun. | | |
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