 |
| color jam. |
they clapped and screamed to get their wiggles out while their teacher played guitar and sang.
10/8/12
10/7/12
10/6/12
10/5/12
friday.
 | |
| installation in progress.. |
tonight i met the moms of 2 people i know mostly through dance or at least through the way that they move. we moved two tables from the lobby into the stage area for a post show reception. white wine, red wine, seasoned popcorn and dip. not sure if the pact's official but i'm holding the holder accountable: a walk to hammond within the next couple a weeks is on.
10/4/12
10/3/12
wednesday.
 |
| hilton reflected. |
it used to be you had to spend at least five dollars to use a debit card at the grocery store near where they just tore down the mcdonalds on milwaukee. i think they changed the rule!
10/2/12
10/1/12
9/30/12
sunday.
 |
| shapes. |
today: the whole neighborhood smelled like chemicals, a warehouse just north of us spent the night burning, i played basketball, i read about instructional objectives, observables versus unobservables, i cut the feet off of an old blue pair of socks, i've got one on each arm, i worried about a lot of little things, i ate cantaloupe and brussel sprouts for dinner.
9/29/12
9/27/12
thursday.
 |
| weights for tents. |
fresh outta school and loud in the back of the bus. i listened to your jokes and watched an old man shake his head. you all seemed so wide awake.
9/26/12
9/25/12
9/24/12
monday.
 |
| michigan. |
...the spatial forms and fantasies through which a culture declares its presence.
-paul carter.
9/23/12
9/21/12
friday.
 |
| lap. |
the map presents us with the reality we know as differentiated from the reality we see and hear and feel. the map doesn't let us see anything, but it does let us know what others have seen or found out or discovered.
-denis wood.
9/20/12
9/19/12
wednesday.
 |
| switching seasons. |
i sat across from you on the train this morning. both sides of your colored pencils were sharpened and you were loudly humming. your bags touched the feet of the man next to you. he was reading the red eye while you drew. your hair was grey and wild.
9/18/12
tuesday.
 |
| view. |
it can help to remember that feeling unsettled or awkward is often a necessary and natural stage in learning and will pass with practice.
-paula denton.
a new tattoo?
9/17/12
monday.
 |
| snip. |
i was waiting on one side of the barn. a boy asked if i needed a ride. i knew i did but didn't know where i was going. i said yes. he said it wouldn't hurt before looping a lasso around my ankles. as i flew through the air i repeated the words just trust this three times in my mind. i landed on the other side of the barn. the landing was rough. i stayed on the ground with my feet tied together. i was late to the wedding, which is where i was supposed to be going. my grandfather was the first to see me arrive. i couldn't hear the words of the ceremony. i jumped into a small pond with my cousins and uncle. we took pictures of each other and the water. it occurred to me right then while swimming that the evidence we were collecting would make this night seem more natural or normal. our being together was strange in right now but the pictures would only show our laughter and wet hair.
9/16/12
9/15/12
9/13/12
9/12/12
9/10/12
monday.
 |
| near clark and monroe. |
keep public schools safe from private corporate monsters.
-a sign at the rally.
9/9/12
9/8/12
saturday.
 |
| advance uniform. |
i sat in a high-backed chair painted black in a room i'd never been in before. i had on an over-sized khaki colored shirt i like to wear. on the tv were sea creatures pretending to be screen savers but i knew they were real. i was called down to the gallery where a man sat near a giant wall of windows. it was so bright in there. i could barely see his face. a bunch of my drawings were there hanging in a row. the man asked how i was able to make the blue crystals so shiny in the one closest to him. it was a strip of blue tape crumpled up. i didn't want to disappoint him so i acted like he meant it as a compliment and not a question. i smiled instead of answering.
9/7/12
9/6/12
9/5/12
wednesday.
 |
| field museum. |
teenagers, a young person and dinosaur bones. i spent the day drawing old artifacts while thinking about my past and present.
9/4/12
tuesday.
 |
| tow zone. |
i watched the giant waves move the wind while holding onto the bushes near shore for support. i saw a building collapse into pieces of dust through the window of my classroom. i thought i knew a girl who lived there. moments later a rectangular parking garage on the roof of the high rise next door fell fast through the ground. i heard the men sweeping up the mess whisper their escape plan. they were in on the disaster. i knew i should tell someone but didn't and followed a long empty hallway to another room instead.
9/3/12
9/2/12
sunday.
 |
| letters. |
a birthday, a young one, it was the day. i hung back painting turquoise stripes on the table cloth after defending my purpose for hanging back. we were all in a garage. some of the kids buried their heads into the shoulders of some other kids. i screwed up. dirty looks, head shakes, an infinity pool.
9/1/12
saturday.
 |
| layers. |
we watched an apartment building light up in flames last night on our walk home from tacos.
8/30/12
8/29/12
8/28/12
tuesday.
 |
| shadow & pink. |
bought a new gallon of white today. i carried it home on the train. i held it by the wirey handle attached to its sides and flipped it back and forth between my hands. i listened to a group of men joking while working on restoring the front porch of a house i pass regularly. a couple of people were walking their dogs. a girl on a bike with a big bag and no helmet flew down the street.
8/27/12
monday.
 |
| 55 gal lb. |
there is no theory of walking, just a consciousness. but there can be a
certain wisdom involved in the act of walking. it's more an attitude,
and it is one that fits me all right. it's a state where you can be both
alert to all that happens in your peripheral vision and hearing, and
yet totally lost in your thought process...
-francis alÿs.
8/26/12
8/25/12
saturday.
 |
| truck. |
people have to talk about something just to keep
their voice boxes in working order so they'll have good voice boxes in
case there's ever anything really meaningful to say.
-kurt vonnegut.
8/24/12
friday.
 |
| real talk. |
in high school i went to a basketball camp in wisconsin with my friend and teammate, courtney. we played 20 some odd games over the course of 3 days. my hair was long. i was tan. the nails on my 2 big toes fell off.
8/23/12
8/22/12
8/21/12
8/20/12
monday.
 |
| puddle. |
i could see rushing water at the very bottom of the drain. i spit into it and watched the glowing mass of mucus fall fast and then cling to the side of the pipe.
8/19/12
8/18/12
saturday.
 |
| train. |
the phone call felt familiar and so i said yes to the job. the woman i'd be subbing for, a girl i knew in high school, thought maybe a field trip would be best. she recommended a boat ride. i agreed. on the day i was to teach her kids i showed up at 1:40pm. since classes began at 8, i was late. i had trouble pronouncing names during roll call and wasted about an hour's worth of time. some of them were on my side. some of them were dancing with hula hoops in the center of the room. i escaped and set up shop in the courtyard to sell old t-shirts to some friends i used to know.
8/17/12
8/15/12
wednesday.
 |
| fire. |
waking
my secret way of waking
is like a place
to hide.
i'm very still,
my eyes are shut.
they all think i am sleeping
but
i'm wide awake inside.
they all think i am sleeping
but
i'm wiggling my toes.
i feel sun fingers
on my cheek.
i hear voices whisper-speak.
i squeeze my eyes
to keep them shut
so they will think i'm sleeping
BUT
i'm really wide awake inside
-and no one knows!
-lilian moore.
8/13/12
monday.
 |
| dish bones. |
how do you make sense of something that looks like nothing? brian greene's got me thinking about dark energy.
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