rexx

slayer ruled.




chocolate (s)layer cake with maple and chocolate icing also ruled.
(complete with upside-down cross constructed of cinnamon chips)




a goodwill store recently opened mere blocks from my house. my first purchase:




i am taking four classes in the fall. easy peasies to get back into the groove.
i won't pretend that i know exactly where its going from there...
but i have some idea and feel groovy about the start.


items on my current to-do list of things to research and then put into action:
*planting herbs and possibly some veggies
*starting a compost pile
*making a quilt of leathers. preferably the size of a wall. i want a leather wall.

the senses and things as of late:

reading: moby dick

listening: bohren & der club of gore - black earth
nadja - desire in uneasiness
the secret - solve et coagula
the devil and the sea - heart vs. spine


tasting: (pulled and baconized!)

seeing: lovely photos of gogo

feeling: that uber suculent exhaustion one feels after a day of water and sun. groovy, isn't it?


tomorrow is the one year anniversary of my set, technicolor, shot by cherry going into member review. another that shall sadly rest in peace. perhaps one day i'll see the front page again?


i've been enjoying walks home from work at night. following old paths, discovering new. cool, breezy, human-less darkness is a much relished glaze over the hot, over-populated days. always noticing and appreciating little things, like how many hundreds of spiders of varying size and activity hang from the railing of one bridge i cross. it is mind blowing to me. (i adore the urban dwellings of animal and insect life) some feed, some spin. some descend or ascend on their mighty strands of silk to simply linger above the calm night water. like i do, neither wanting to be here nor there. at either end of the bridge lie excessive quantities of people, lights, cars, billions of flickering television sets, jobs that make us wonder why we're here. after being tainted by all we must trudge through to reach what we call home, or really any destination of true desire, there is the good stuff. all that we want and need besides these bits of magic woven sporadically into our world. often when the day is done i wonder about all that in-between stuff that fills me with visible disgust. but when i'm sitting in the middle of a river on a bridge with the city on one end and at the other, a mountain full of fancy houses with blinking televisions so big they are visible from a mile away..and yet i am touching neither one, iall clutter of the mind disappears and i begin to think thoughts they way i wish to be able to write or express them to others. spiders by the hundreds, thousands even, living their lives and filling my soul with wonder as they hang so freely over the city, some coupled, most alone between two rungs. they aren't human but i do suppose they have their own troubles to deal with. and what about this mallard floating effortlessly in the waters toward the east, fading into the distance.. i'd like to pick his brain. here i feel able to think unobstructedly and sometimes i linger so long that i start to wonder about my place in this world. my physical place, i mean. where do i need to be? i'm uncertain if it is here, but are all places the same? they seem not so, when i've been a stranger in them. or perhaps i just thrive on that feeling of uncertainty and impermanence. i do need to travel somewhere new, soon. for kicks. and in the not too terribly distant future i'd like to put some distance between myself and city life, not just for a visit. and not necessarily a distance that is extreme (for in the face of a pro-man, pro-technology, sacrifice-environment reality, it is difficult to achieve). all i know is that i can't continue to immerse myself in such a disgusting quantity of bodies day in and day out. but for now, we'll stick it out, the spiders, the mallard, all of the preciously inhuman creatures of the pennsylvanian lands and i. with my most beloved human and a few others that i hold dear, scattered across america and beyond. i cross the bridge at last, pass confidently through any remaining murk, and carry on to where the love and the music and the beer and the books and the hours spent staring out of windows and so much is good. traipse through the rest without a care. simple.


look closer and neglect no glimmer of what makes life grand, for you.

as for the rest,
fuck it.


my tummy is grumbly.
to the kitchen and beyond..
<3 Rexx