Author: foxtongue

give me a sentence fragment, and I’ll give you what I’m thinking

He dances for me as I leave, every time, out next to the bus as I sit inside, glued to the window, helpless but to smile. I breathe on the glass, trapped in my seat, and smear cartoon hearts in the resulting childish fog. I ADORE YOU, block letters, mirror formed, blowing kisses off my fingers, then holding my hands to my heart, messy with roughly mimed song lyrics. Bang, bang, my baby shot me dead. He runs alongside as the bus pulls out, skipping, swinging around if he can to stand on a street light like he’s singing in the rain, while I wave an invisible hanky, eyes locked on each other until we are defeated by the bus turning away.

We are reduced to texting then, once our line of sight is broken, my travel undeniable fact, snippets of poetry 160 characters long. I type awkwardly, all clumsy thumbs, until my cellular gives out by Bellingham, (Bellingham being north enough to be Canada according to the phone company). You are the answer to Samson’s riddle, I carefully type, arduously, letter by slow letter, the sweetness built inside my chest that coats my ribs in honey.

have I introduced you yet? his name is mask replica, he’s a trout

David

In an odd bit of unexpected news, a side effect of living with David is that Matthew Good has just posted/stolen (uncredited) one of my photographs from Dec. This both pleases me greatly and bothers me intensely in bemused equal parts. It’s an odd yet understandable mix of reactions, and David has promised to call him today to rectify the matter, conveying as well my gleeful shaking of a tiny fist in his general direction for his unintended rudeness. Asked where he had found the image, Matt replied, “I found it posted by some chick on the internet.” Thank you, Matt, that’s pretty damned awesome. In fact, it kind of made my night. That said, all wry appreciation aside, I truly am deeply glad of who you are and what you do. You’re one of the Good Guys. (And, yes, I’m totally digging the new album. Which you, gentle reader, may find streaming free at the top of his site.) I can’t wait until you come over for tea, if only to introduce you lovingly to my nerd-smacking fish.

as if defined only by absence

Again, the I5 has been reduced to one lane. Traffic is dismal, almost at a standstill. My bus crawls down the freeway like a wounded animal. The driver pressing brakes that sound like whimpering, the engine growling into motion like soft, tired determination, frustration gritted teeth against a broken bone. An hour late leaving the station, another hour lost to this lag, I do not get home until four in the morning, my bag a part of me, my clothes glued on. I tear into my bed, shedding my day like worn through skin, but cannot find my sleep. The bed is too still, too empty. There are no wheels underneath, no swaying highway lines. My pillows are too many. I am a ghost.

in an era obsessed with junk culture, I like to make things grow

We came home last night with bags full of treasure – groceries, favourite films, promising books, and a round black pot, some soil, and two miniature rose bushes tucked under my right arm, one red, one moonlight white, like the flowers assigned by Hans Anderson to Gerda and Kai. I planted the flowers before I even took off my boots, sitting at the kitchen table, fingers smeared with beautifully scented dirt, palms pricked scarlet from the thorns, smiling as if I was giving a home to a child. I potted them so close their roots will mingle as they grow, tying their lives into a thriving, inseparable mass, his and hers, with the simple breathing act of survival.

Help Coilhouse Win a Small Business Grant!

mostly via Nadya:

Guys, Coilhouse Magazine needs your help! Basically, here’s the deal: we’ve entered the magazine into a competition for a $100K business grant that we feel we have a real shot at winning. My knee-jerk reaction to all contests, sweepstakes and competitions is that they’re all scams. But this one actually sounds promising, and if we won, it would change everything for us. As a small business, it’s hard for us to keep going in this economy, but this could give us the boost we need to really take Coilhouse to the next level.

It literally takes 60 seconds to help out here. You just have to register (they won’t spam you.. unlike me) and vote (it takes 1 click).

STEP ONE: Go here to register. I know, registering is super-annoying. This one’s relatively painless. Don’t worry about spam – they explicitly say “we will not solicit your email for special offers, product news or other communications.”

STEP TWO: Go to our entry. Click on “Support This Story, ENDORSE NOW.”

STEP THREE (BONUS ROUND!): If you really, REALLY want to support us and take one extra step, get the word out! Let people know we need support. Post this link on Facebook, Twitter, your blog, or whatever.

Please, please take a minute to vote for us. We’re really serious about winning this thing, and every vote counts. Thank you!

I’d go tonight, but I promised Tony I’d go with him

Threadless is having a one-day “all shirts are $9” sale to commemorate 9/9/09.

And you know what that means! Today 9 comes out, the full length stitchpunk feature produced by Tim Burton and Timur “freaking” Bekmambetov, the guy responsible for Nightwatch and Daywatch, (and distributed by my favourite company, Focus Features), based off Shane Acker‘s amazing Oscar nominated 2005 short film of the same name:

Also, whimsical trend blog Urlesque have christened 09/09/09 as The Day Without Cats on the Internet. Please abide.