I am currently in the process of creating an actual website.
You know, one similar to a portfolio and what not.
Please find me here until it is finished.
Thank you.

As you grow older.

I must force myself to understand
not all things last forever.

I am going to get a custom license plate frame made.
It is going to read:

"I would rather be taking pictures of my cat."

Growing from squares.

I wish physical homes could move too.

Computered.

I have been rummaging through a folder titled "snapshots" on my Mac. I have decided to share some of my favorites in random postings. Round one:

Up till this last week,
it had been five months
since I have legitamitely danced.





The muscles in my calves
are trying to escape.

A growing queue of things I know.

I am going to try taking this "art" thing a bit more serious.

Bought a url. Boyfriend is going to jazz it up for me.
Now I just need to get organized
and have my work viewable.
Here is my attempt.

Acrylic on canvas.
35x23"





Detail.

"They asked for it."

I have been roaming around on craigslist for the last hour looking at jobs, cars, and of course, personals. It is interesting to read what people's opinions are on the subject of Brianna Denison's murder verdict.

Some back story:

James Biela was convicted of raping and murdering Brianna, which happened a little over two years ago. He was also found guilty of three felony charges, including the rape of a woman in October of 2007 and the rape and kidnapping of another woman in December of 2007.

Brianna was only nineteen when it happened. She was on break from college visiting friends and family in Reno. She was kidnapped while sleeping on a friend's couch near UNR.

Her body was found 26 days later, in a field, beneath a discarded Christmas tree. She had been strangled with a pair of thong underwear.


James Biela has been sentenced with the death penalty.


-----

While many posts talked about the controversies of the death penalty, there was one that caught my attention:





(Apparently we're all whores and asking for it).

Beyond the wrist.

I am still trying to figure out
what to do with these hands.

Typically shaped to fit a particular room.

I have been rolling around on the carpets of Denver, the closest I can get to functioning properly while everyone wears their name badges pompously around their necks with notebooks and pens and plastic cups of water that never empty. You’re over one thousand miles away and all I want to do is put my hand in your mouth while you yawn. And you tell me you would walk here if it were practical, but what is sensible in these circumstances? When my stomach folds in, reminding me of when I slept away from my mother for the first time and didn't understand yearning. I distract myself by trying to find analogies that involve food to justify my aching for you. You think about me every other second, and I sit in a convention room thinking about how your teeth seem to keep getting whiter ever since you went to the dentist. The poet says I should get to know these people now because we will all be dead soon, but your love is criminal, and the repercussion is my uncompromising indifference for strangers. I am going to send you a picture of the view from the 18th floor while everyone makes way downstairs to the lobby bar. The ten dollar vodka sodas spill on their name badges and everything you do belongs in a song.





(From current BA show).

Soon you begin to wonder if these things matter.

So so close
to being done with school.

I have a BA show
to install this week,
and lots of papers to write.






Be expecting graduation invites
via snail mail.

Animating isn't for everyone.

For Jenna and Megan.
Good luck on Junior Art Portfolio.






What could I possibly say about this?
I had three hours to come up with something
(circa spring 2009).


And,
clowns are creepy
(which makes it amazing).

A March Epoch.

Time is lost.

I can honestly say I posted my last update
a week before this
but both you and the blog know that is very untrue.

This misplaced time has been mainly spent in school
which includes
finishing up the first book I have ever edited.







Hopefully it isn't my last.



(Please let me know if you are interested
in purchasing a copy. They are fairly cheap).

The Biggest Little.

So, I have this boyfriend.
He is really great.
Makes music.





He just released an album titled
Big City. It's wonderful,
and I am not merely saying that
because we cuddle (and stuff).


Listen to it.
If you enjoy it,
consider the purchase.

Back and Forth

It is my last semester of undergrad.





With no ideal medium,
no concept of what genre I may be remotely good at
(or earnestly interested in for that matter),
I am wondering whether I chose the wrong path.

Maybe I should have been an accountant.
Glued to a swivel chair under fluorescent lights,
fifty hours a week.

Two weeks paid vacation.

And I'd sit in the restroom stall each work day,
avoiding the unavoidable.

Talking to walls.

Make it happen.

And we won't.

Saturday Scuffles.

There seemed to be a brawl on my car,
or against it.

Only street surveillance cameras
may know the truth.





iPhone evidence photos courtesy of
Mr. Golaw.

While you were calculating tears, my head expired.

For him,
it would always be
a 93% chance
of rainfall.

Be it downtown or way up in the air.

You desalinate me.

The coming of light.

I am in the process of
catching up.







Regularity can be
such
an achievement.



flickflick.

Twenty Ten.

Be always at war with your vices,
at peace with your neighbors,
and let each new year find you
a better man.


Franklin.





I have a good feeling about this year.


Cheers.