Lung came over the other day while Mishka was visiting,
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Tag: mishka
“somethingsomething the bees knees somethingsomething try to please”
The One Laptop Per Child Foundation’s beginning production.
Fourty-five minutes until freedom. There’s a loud show downstairs, lacing the air with frantic piano, lathering the foyer with a nervous energy. Some student thing. It’s the sort of music I would choose to unsettle an audience with, as if I wanted to dislodge their perception of time, kick it disjointed and paste filters all over the lights. In my head, the dancers are testaments to fanciful make-up and Cirque-style motions. They kick, scream, and astonish.
It’s actually a ballet performance. Something bleach-blonde and mild, culturally appropriate for the family and friends in attendance, many of whom were too old for the stairs. Many of which, I’m sure, are currently wincing at the thrashing rock music that’s replaced the piano, that’s begging for big hair and glittery tight pants lined-up outside of cheap bars where the floors are perpetually sticky with spilled and stolen beer. Of course, any minute now, this will all segue into something hideously classical.
And, yes, there it went. French baroque, rather, and overcooked, dreaming of soulful arpeggios that might travel barefoot on horseback in the rain along the Seine into the sunset. And it didn’t do the dishes, either.
Oops, no. Now it’s faux-traditional Irish rock, a la Riverdance. Mixed with beat-mix 60’s remixed retro-pop.
Thirty-five minutes until freedom.
Don’t suppose it would be cool if we hung out.
Knots like riding a bicycle. Music louder than necessary, sitting in a drift of letters, this apartment doesn’t feel like home. To be fair, neither does his, though I almost lived there once. I can’t manage to properly wake up. A framed moment of the sound of how he moves in his sleep. My hands smell like boy and soap. My clothing slept on his floor. Contact points. A brief repair of desire. Nothing’s changed (except that I’m better at this than I used to be). We still love each other. We’re still unlikely to call.
I got my kittens yesterday. Two sweet black females, two months old. Tanith is fluffy as all hell and curious as an antique shipwreck, and the other one, whom I haven’t named yet, is sleeker, with eyes that look like they belong to a fantasy painting. I’m addicted, but they have to live at Andrew‘s until I get the theatre, as my roommate is allergic.
It’s Media Monday there tonight. You’re invited. How The Grinch Stole Christmas, show up any time after 6:00pm, movie starts at 8:00pm. at 13th & Clark (5 blocks from Broadway & Commercial). Call 778-229-0942 for directions if needed. I’ll be there, visiting my kittens.
My darling Mishka is in town for a concert – this poster here on the right – Bryan’s Plastic Acid Rock Orchestra. My comps are for Tuesday, anyone want to come? Beth is in it too. The band played Vancouver in May too, but I missed it. A farcical error – it was near my birthday, part of the gig was dedicated to that, so everyone involved assumed that obviously I’d already been invited. Whoops. I love that girl.
Eight years later and Bryan’s kept the name. (Makes me feel almost loved, that does, excepting that I know him too well). Our original incarnation was named Acid Reign, which is what we thought might be kind of cool when we were fourteen. Thankfully, we’ve recovered. Or at least, Marissa and I have. We’ve all known each other since I was ten. I was the girl that moved in next door. They were playing with garbage can lids in the back when I found them. She was sitting on one end and he was jumping onto the other, launching her into the air. It looked fun, I said hello.
the last link in this post is one of my universal favourites
Lung is picking me up this afternoon, a break in my transcription work, to visit the Fox Adult Theater. He’s always wanted to go, but no one was ever willing to go with him. Spur of the moment planning, we’re going to dress up in evening wear and take lots of pictures. I have to remember to dig out my bow-tie for him before I settle too deeply into my work and lose track of time.
Superflat Monogram, an ad campaign for LOUIS VUITTON by Mamoru Hosoda.
Music by Fantastic Plastic Machine.
I search the tangled mess of my room for traces of you as if I might unearth a shrunken head. Somewhere here is a silver hair, a pack of guitar strings, an earthquake. It’s true though I’ve said it before and not to you, I want the taste of your fingers trapped in my hair. Between my sheets I find your fingerprints. I think I see you creeping past my door in the corner of my eye like a pet that only pretends to be kept as it hides some sticky dead thing under the table in half a tin can. I know better than to look.
There are frozen images of you trapped on my computer, pixilated views into memories that don’t whisper for more than a few seconds long. I long to tap on the glass and hear it crack. It feels like your ghost is flying to me as if it lies on the wind as a bed and the wind obeys my needs.
I trust you. In times of disaster, you would let me climb the burning buildings.
Okay – this just hurts my brain so badly I want to destroy things.
Marissa has sent me e-mail today, the first in almost a year.
A summary:
SHE IS IN GERMANY STOP THE CHURCHES ARE PRETTY STOP
IT’S PRETTY NEAT HERE STOP IT’S LIKE YOU SHOULD LIVE HERE STOP
FRANKFURT PRAGUE VIENNA SALZBURG THEN MUNICH STOP
HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY STOP WILL BRING YOU A PRESENT STOP
Do you ever want to kill someone for something they have nothing to do with? Yeah.
I don’t think she understands.
Sasquatch Hunter
My friends are releasing thier new mockumentary “The Sasquatch Hunter” Tuesday evening at Pacific Cinematheque. Thats July 15th. Doors open at 7:00 PM and the screening starts at 7:30. The screening is private, but please bring as many guests as you would like. There will be a charge of $4 at the door, and there will be a reception with a bar (cheap $) before and after the show.
There have also been arrangements made to continue festivities at Panama Jack’s across the street.
Please wear a costume or come full-on formal—we’re playing up the “Premiere” thing.
Press Release
Sasquatch sighting on Howe Street !!!!!
News last month that the inimitable Sasquatch had raised his shaggy head on the Island in Duncan is small potatoes in comparison to his next appearance.
The buzz about Vancouver is that he will actually be IN TOWN for the premiere screening this Tuesday night of the new blockbuster documentary “The Sasquatch Hunter”, starring Tim von Boetticher, Peter Gross, and Elle von Boetticher. Sasquatch played a small, yet integral role in the production, and the producers had to grease a lot of wheels to make his participation possible. But their perseverance paid off in what the insiders are claiming may be this season’s repeat of the Blair Witch phenomenon.
Film Synopsis
“The Sasquatch Hunter” is a documentary/comedy that details the story of a redneck self-proclaimed Sasquatch expert and his loopy, spaced out wife (June) as they explore the darkest reaches of the Pacific rain forest in search of the elusive Sasquatch or “Big Foot”.
The Sasquatch Hunter, with his wife in tow, finds numerous clues leading him to believe a real Sasquatch is close at hand. Believing he can lure the Sasquatch into a trap by using musical instruments, he prepares a series of encounters only to be foiled each time. However, as the couple descend deeper and deeper into the forest on their quest, June undergoes a psychedelic ‘vision’ that changes their situation and sets the stage for a surprise ending that will have you fit to be tied, provided you are already
loosely tied to begin with.
“The Sasquatch Hunter” is the first production of Bee Movie Productions (www.beemovie.com) and the result of the collective, slightly deranged efforts of film makers Tim and Elle Von Boetticher and Peter Gross. It was filmed entirely on location in the Pacific Northwest rain forest (Lions Bay) and features a series of kooky and unexpected characters such as “The world’s most unsuccessful Bono Impersonator” and the highly eccentric
Elbonian film maker “Jost Von Dyke”. “The Sasquatch Hunter” is a
light-hearted comedy that will leave you wanting more, partly because it’s short.