Thursday, April 29, 2010
Passport: $220 . . . $100.00 for renewed passport / $60.00 to expedite / $60.00 (incorrect Birth certificate penalty fee) = $220.00 Priceless, since I'll be on the beach in Sayulita with Wendy come May 23rd. Although can I say this? The Birth Certificate had an embossed stamp from the hospital where my mother birthed lil old me. It also had a sweet baby footprint, mine. It's the same document my Dad said he almost didn't trust me to have, yes, it's that important - but apparently didn't count? Just saying, really? Oh well, I'm past that. And soon, I'll be passing through Mexican security headed towards my palapa and 30th birthday, so there.
Pilates, kicked my big old butt. Then I met Mikey and we headed to an art show. And me, wearing my yoga pants, almost apologized to the artist herself, but pretended they were just bell bottom leggings - which would also garner an apology?! That said, I purchased the top two prints you see above, so beautiful - so dirty sweet I say. (AND they are prints, but each was hand painted and embellished, to this I think I own two half originals, which may equal one original - although either way, it's not the paints' relief nor re-sale value that intrigues me, it's the imagery, period). I love the last image, her heart isn't quite on her sleeve, almost falling off . . . wow, moi.
Kime Buzzelli is my sister's favorite artist, and I know why. Her gritty feminine portraits expose the feminine flower child-esque girls who also double as sexy sirens and fans of rock n' roll. It's a dichotomy of the fairer gender that many don't understand. Some people think you gotta be one or the other (Madonna / Whore ring a bell?). But her women are so sublime. The text she occasionally includes, their words unspoken, really suits me, as a woman. A damsel I am, from time to time, and an outspoken, mascara smeared pot of confusion, well that's me too. I just adore her work. See them here: kime
And then this evening.
Well, it's devoted to you, and to writing. I still believe that writing will save my life. One thought and then one sentence and then one post at a time. It's therapy for me, and not like the kind I get on Mondays at 5:30. This one is free, and just me, and only here because of you.
Good night and adieu.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Am headed out to meet "new" dude. Hmmm, please -with your heart of hearts wish me luck and remind me via telepathy that I am a woman who should take up space (enough, not too much, nor too little) and let me be me. He likes it? great. No like, no biggs, yes? Yes.
Here I go, again, on my own. bye