Friday, June 17, 2005

week in review...

a blur really. a heron extending above the windscreen. one sunrise so orange. yet another oranger. the girl who said orange doesn't make you feel anything must have been absent. piano casters. casters die. levi-strauss on the down and out. and again accidentally this evening. every spare moment finds me folding. masu box. becoming scraps. dali box. bird box. woodblock box. dreams about the dying request of my friend the biker. i sing songs in a milliner's bonnet. the offensive teal gown. i drift to the rafters. a man with an arresting gaze. windows. heart melting rise outside. amphitheater. and another night rusted birdcages. a machine for graphing functions. bird base. preliminary base. besides dreamt catalogs arrived. amorphophallus titanum. and three vintage cashmere cardigans. $1.25! uncovered the old postcard: formosa. i miss the man that wrote. my lovely mongchee paper says: art is human activit the transmission to other and best feeling to whic art is human activity h the transmission to other of t and best feeling to which we have. 501 spanish verbs fully conjugated. all the tenses. that's time again and again and again. never think of it so. but really it's so. finger jade. in the dark some little emo clad with a zombie stride. he i said. she she said. it was. moving a bookshelf the baby's mother goose fell off. coverless. how well i remember sippity sup. bread and milk from a china cup. carrot-headed baby. and i removed the eyes miss muffet abused with ric-rac. also bo-peep eyes and the sayer of i love little pussy. eloise wilkin is on or off. laserbeam gazing children of the corn. it had to be stopped. swallows at sunset. orangey oranger sunset.

and now for something entirely different...

it's really cold in the house right now. colder outside i guess. something i love about california summer. that and the relative lack of humidity. and many other things besides.

something funny. in the next room they thought i'd really misplaced it. i was making noise. mostly laughing. but what's up with the lack of caps there e.e.shrimpings?

s.b. is having a vidiot-fest with three playstations. not here. but he phoned to tell about it. three playstations. and as many t.v.s. and three fellas. two televisions for games and one for mr.show. i suppose that means one playstation is auxiliary. my maths are astounding.

time for shut eye.

3 Comments:

Blogger Damon Allen Davison said...

Three cardigans. That's quite a dream-score. I've been thinking about all the vintage stuff I'll find that won't ever fit me when I get back to California in August. Maybe I'll find some of the vintage stuff in the huge wardrobe my mom keeps for me, or maybe I'll find out that the wardrobe has no back. and push onward...

2:54 PM  
Blogger dishpantheism said...

actually, the cardigans were real! whooot! i jumbled some real and some dream together. but the cardigans actually came home with me. i didn't have much cash on hand or i would have bought more. somebody donated a whole crapload of cashmere. i am very fond of that fiber. the lady at the thrift store is sort of my pal so she sold the cardigans to me for $1.25 a pop. although, the regular price was only $3.00!

hey, um, if some pretty lady offers you turkish delight (sounds sexy, i know) politely refuse. ;)

5:02 PM  
Blogger Damon Allen Davison said...

I'll keep the warning in mind. I thought it was Baked Alaska I should avoid.

12:50 PM  

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