Tiny Vulvas Taking Over

This Vulvacentric art wall is just a block or so from my apartment. Aren't all the vulva shaped tiles colorfully beautiful! Hurray for the small glitters in life.

Walking with the Angel of Death

I went on the strangest walk today. It was raining, not pouring down rain or sprinkling rain but regular rain rain so I brought an umbrella. Not my umbrella mind you, an umbrella I need to return to a friend but haven’t because I haven’t bought another one since mine died.

In any case I decided to go for a walk and return my Netflix movies all the way to the post office instead of just down the block. I thought it would be refreshing and help cure my hang-over since the dude leaf-blowing for three hours this morning didn’t really help (as if there are so many leaves in the middle of the summer, ass).

So, I’m walking in the regular rain, just a regular walk no one too irritating, no one from England etc. and I get to the post office and this woman is sitting in her car parked in front of those blue things that eat envelopes and she yells at me out her window. She asks if I mind letting one of those blue things eat her card she’s mailing and I oblige and put it in the blue thing’s mouth. She thanks me and I think I’m doing a good deed, helping someone out, but then my mind turns cynical and I think about how freaking lazy that woman was for not being able to get out of her own car and walk two steps, how she was probably sitting there waiting for the next innocent bystander to walk by so she wouldn’t have to. I sigh, and let it go and try to go back to my original thought about me doing a good deed, but it was nevertheless futile.

Then I start walking back towards my apartment and I hit a red hand in my face telling me not to cross the street so I wait. And as I wait this man strolls up beside me in a black cloak with the hood up. He has a big brown beard and big bushy brown hair (I imagine that’s what it looks like with the hood down anyway) and he’s wearing sandals and you can see that his toenails are too-many-cigarettes yellow and gnarled like the roots of a very old tree. The red hand turns into a white dude and allows us to cross. The hooded cloaked guy scurries along, walking way faster than me which is odd because generally I walk faster than everyone, but also odd because of the horror movie monster way he’s moving—as in it doesn’t look like he’s walking fast, but somehow he’s already a block ahead of me.

Right when I start thinking about him being the next Jesus another dark figure appears behind me, like the shadow of death. Then I start thinking how the black cloaked dude probably isn’t Jesus but is probably the Death Angel and the dark shadowed dude behind me is going to kill me and I’m going to die hung-over not wearing any underwear.

Then I understand why I don’t smoke weed. I am paranoid enough as it is.

The dark shadowed dude disappears along with the Angel of Death (obviously after someone else today and I just got in their path) and some old white dude yells at me across the street wanting directions. Which I then had to ridiculously yell back over the traffic. But I can put that down as two helpful deeds in one day, which means I don’t have to be helpful for at least another year (although I’m sure I will be just out of the goodness of my heart).

Yay to strange walks in the rain!

Jesus Died for Somebody's Sins...

I went to the beach today and the Lord sent me a message. As Patti Smith says, "Jesus died for somebody's sins but not mine" he died so he could later be sun burnt onto my skin.

Anyone on ebay want to make a purchase???

The Art of Aloneness

In a book I am currently reading it mentions that “Long ago the word alone was treated as two words, all one. To be all one meant to be wholly one, to be in oneness either essentially or temporarily” (Women Who Run with the Wolves 293).

I think many people are fearful of being alone; the idea conjures up the negativity that is involved in aloneness, but being alone is not the same as being lonely. It is a positive place for solitude and for finding yourself again. Often times we become distracted, we forget who we are because we spend time outside ourselves either literally with other people or figuratively by turning on the t.v. or updating our facebook statuses etc.

The idea of being all one instead of "alone" makes me feel giddy inside; it makes me realize why I enjoy going for runs because in those moments I am getting back to myself, I am channeling my inner need for understanding and creativity. Being alone, especially in a city, has almost turned into a treat, but it needs to turn into a regularly scheduled event—it’s just as important as eating—in a way it’s feeding your soul. What can be more important then to be all one within yourself and the world?

I got you Catholics!

I knew it would be difficult, but I also knew it could be done. I found a vulvacentric image on a catholic church, in fact they were ALL over the church and all over other catholic churches around the city. Thus, though the Catholics are full of patriarchal phallocentric images they're not ALL about the cock. In a passive way they celebrate the beauty of the feminine as well. We just must look a little deeper to discover their appreciation.

A Run without an I-pod

I went to mail a few things today and decided to go on a walk, as I was walking I decided that I wanted to run. I don’t know why. I mean usually when I go for a run I plan it all out, but today it was sporadic and spontaneous and unfortunately I didn’t have my i-pod. “Gasp! You reply. How did you survive?” I managed, I tell you, but it wasn’t pretty.

Not for the fact that music gives me a beat and helps me keep rhythm, or for the fact that it makes me forget that I could be breathing freakishly loud or that my muscles are bitching at me for making them work. No, it wasn’t because of those things even though the i-pod does help with those issues. What the i-pod is best at and what I use it for is a blockade.

When I have my i-pod on I don’t have to listen to the hootananey, the catcalls, the constant judgment of my woman-ness. Unlike my friend Kelsi who enjoys the encouragement from strange creepy men; I am disturbed that they aren’t minding their own business. I run for many reasons and though I would like to say that I only do it to be healthy I can’t because it’s not true. I run to be healthy but I also run to gasp! look good. I look good when I feel good and I feel good after I run so the cycle works for me. The problem is, I’m not trying to look good when I’m running; I’m trying to run.

I was perfectly complimented the other day when walking down the street some asshole yelled “nice rack” out of his car window. I replied with a simple “thank you”. I don’t know why I was so calm and so un-offended, besides the fact that my rack did look nice then and perhaps I am aware that one day it may not. But when I am running, especially without an i-pod to keep my rhythm or prevent me from hearing myself breathe then it becomes problematic to have the dogs bark unsweet advances towards my ears.

Especially homeless old crackheads who have whole conversations with me without me saying a word, for example, “Hey sweetheart, what’s your name? My name’s Scotty. Howsabouts you gives me something and I’ll gives you something in return” or something like that I was trying to ignore him and pretend I didn’t hear or see him though that often times does not work and I have to restore to the glare—which I have to admit I am a professional glarer—known to scare the bejesus out of my own friends-- imagine what I do to strangers. So in any case, it brings me back to my original point, which is sporadic runnings should not occur unless an i-pod is near or you’re ready to tell some old farts to booger off.

Which makes me annoyed that men can’t keep their stupid ass opinions to themselves. I mean really. Do they think I’m going to stop running, take off all my clothes and do them right there? What the fuck. It ain’t ever gonna happen. And you can’t keep me down my hitting on me cause I’m just going to keep running and keep looking good whether you’re getting any or not. Because men, you’re lack of confidence in you own masculinity and your constant need to attempt to put women “in their place” is no longer going to work. Catcall all day. We’re still going to go out and play. And we’re still going to ignore you and glare at your insecurities. Word.

The Art of Chasing Waterfalls

I’ve went without internet for eight days and I survived. I know, many of you are thinking you couldn’t do it, but trust me you can and the break is totally worthwhile. My parents, Ryan and I traveled to the Pacific North West and road tripped around Oregon and the very northern portion of California; it was on this trip that I made a philosophical discovery about humanity. Perhaps an obvious one at that, but nothing that I had ever thought about that intently before.

From my analysis it seems that people framed by nature are more tuned into to their sensibility, spirituality and overall sympathy. When to the west is an endless sea with depth and discoveries yet to be made and to the east are massive momentous mountains that take miles and muscle to climb it’s hard to forget the value of life and the place humans stand in the world.

In cities almost everything is human-made which causes people to forget about all the wonder and mysticism that exists; people forget about the magic and beauty that has been created not by us but before us and forever after us. Perhaps it is why people around mountains and great sources of water are often times more conscious of their environment why they are healthier, veganier, greener than others—why the smile more and say good morning to strangers. In cities if you smile and say good morning the stranger will probably ask you for your change— we shouldn’t have to give away money just for being friendly, so people shrink away from each other in fear of connections or lack of connections.

The mountains and oceans and waterfalls help us to embrace the gentleness, the fierceness, the wildness of life. There is strength in the calm unmoving mass of the mountains. There is wonder and intrigue in the crashing waves against the jagged rocks of the sea. And there is humbleness standing underneath the great redwoods, knowing we can never get that tall, but we can forever embrace their tenacity, stubbornness and awesomeness and know that a part of nature will forever be in us.