[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 16 most recent journal entries recorded in
|Tuesday, November 7th, 2000|
|No news Is Good news
Monday...rainy day...turned to sleet, then snow.
Uneventful, went to book store, met D, we rapped and gazed in each others eyes, our legs pressed against each other, ever so slightly. We want to fuck each really bad. But, we'll wait.
Went to z's house, he was out, down for the count, back from his Vegas TRIP. Rapped with the Russian Jewish Immigrant maid, she knows a little English, Yiddish and Russian.
Meet up with x, and he offered me a job, to St Louis on a buying trip. That should be fun and educational. Nice paid vacation, I'm going to miss my girl. Big Time.
I've got to quit staying up so late and focus more on getting shit done. My chest hurts, I'm having shooting pains, from smoking I guess. I smoked a little tonight and had one glass of red wine, not bad.
Thinking of going to NA, need to stay away or just say no. easier said than done. It will be good to go out of town.
|Monday, November 6th, 2000|
chillin' in a big way.
Hell, I fell off the wagon thursday. Z had asked me to meet him at his bar...and we'd party. I showed up when the bar closed. I wasn't really in the mood to see people. zuzu let's me in, she's the lesbian bar manager, and my occassional lover. Her sister, a butch dike lesbian, was there with her, even very butch dike "woman." Everyone was drunk. They make me some liquid cocaine and I listen to the nights events. Some blonde bimbo comes from upstairs and says her and z had been discussing a business propostition. Yeah, right. She splits and zuzu and I go upstairs, Z is on the bed, fucked up. He says he took 7 pills, vicadans, I think. Offers me some, I take one out of his shirt pocket. He asks me to scratch his back and i oblige.
We decide to go get food at the store, buy the usual pasta ingredients. D starts to follow us from the store, z invites him to come eat. Z moves his lex srv and we cruz upstairs, D wants to fuck me in the ass, really fucking bad. But I'm starting to feel the pill. When I do drugs, I usually get quiet and kindof introspective. Z starts to cook and pulls up some info on Nader on the computer, we keep alternating from the kitchen, to the computer and then the news. I stay distant from D, I don't want to get involved with my girlfriends husband, but he is tempting. We've been so close for so long.
We stay up until 6am and D leaves, he smashes me into a hug. Z watches, and says please stay and help me with my sons science project. We made a jello molecule. z starts telling me about the russian model he's fucking. It sounds boring to me, I need kinky fetish sex, not missionary, wham bam it's over bullshit. There is some dike from out of town, sleeping in the guest bed, she brought the drugs, she wakes up and doles out the pills. I take one, thinking i fell fine. I take it and drive home. When I get home I start puking and puking all day. Fuck. I'm so stupid. I didn't even cop a buzz. I'm in bed the whole day, drowzy and sick. z and the dike left for vegas.
Sat good scores thrifting, stop and see x, at his antique shop downtown. I have been ignoring him for exactly a month now. He just started getting on my nerves. He is like a spoiled rich kid that complains all the time. So we go have a drink and a bite to eat. He says I can go on a buying trip with him either Chicago or St Louis. I really want to go back to Chicago, trip free and get paid to play. He walks me to my car, and I go to Z's bar cuz it's right there. Thinking it's early and nobody will be there. I go in, and a few of my friends are there and hey what you want to drink? whoops. 3 drinks and 5 shots later...we close up and I go up to the office with zuzu and there are like three girls who like the new charlie's angels...I like the oriental girl. zuzu's benevolent roomate is there dispensing coke/crack i don't know, we all take a few hits, the angels are all fucked up and start arguing with each other. We go back downstairs, and have more cocktails and smoke weed. I bring my guitar and play a bit. The doorman, me and zuzu go upstairs. zuzu gives me a backrub, not hard enuf, she wants my finger up her pussy but i'm too tired. I split and go home.
|Thursday, November 2nd, 2000|
reading all day, surfing the web.
Reading a book on The Secret Language of Dreams.
Interesting. This is inspiring me to paint with my lens, paint with pigment and understand myself.
I am drug and alchol-free for two days now. yeah. I had been smoking myself into oblivion. I feel more alert and productive.
I need to make some money and get my shit ready to go to Spain.
I will start to write my dreams in my diary.
Had one tonight about Y. Vague. We were sitting next to each other. I am confused when it comes to men. I am swearing off them for awhile. I don't want to use people for plot development.
My best friends husband came on to me the other night. I was numb, kindof dumbfounded. Not really knowing what to do or say. He told me he loved me and had been wanting me for 11 years, he is a genius IQ, attractive independently wealthy man. Triple Scorpio...very sexual.
|Saturday, October 14th, 2000|
oh. rough day, today, fiday the 13th, all week I was wanting to party, my friends with 906 gallery and gig. Best laid plans are better left unsaid?
I stayed home with my girl. She needs me and I definitely need her. We both have had it rough since Grandma died. She more than me. I was distancing myself from the beginning. I didn't feel I could go through it again.
I can't help but think deaths come in three.
I keep having flashbacks on the others. Losing my grandma makes me want to communicate better with those I love.
My brother, was so solid through everything. I needed that. I just have to get through the funeral. The one funeral.
When I was lying on Grandma's bed, I watch her housedress hanging on the door, gently move. Emma wanted to bring the Ouija Board into Grandma's room and talk to her.
Edna's room was beautiful, she had a stack of photos for me in the middle of her dresser. I couldn't even look. Everything reminds me of her, I had no idea, I would miss her so much. Our relationship, was bittersweet, I knew she disapproved of my lifestyle. I am definitely the black sheep of the family.
I will continue to learn from Grandma's legacy, as I stumbled through her room, I felt their was so much more to this woman, she was so proud and difiant. To the very end she refused to be served or taken care of...my daughter watched her die...she said she kept moaning and moaning and her body was twisting in pain.
I miss her. She was so soft and sweet.
That's how I'll remember Grandma...Soft and Sweet.
She's resting now,
and I will sleep.
|Monday, October 9th, 2000|
|Persistence of Vision
"It was the year of the fourth non-depression. I had recently joined the ranks of the unempolyed. The president had told me that I had nothing to fear but fear itself. I took him at his word, for once, and set out to backpack to California.
I was not the only one
I am going to kill myself today.
In what way, In what manner, you say.
It is my fantasy. My dearest diary.
Watched the sixth sense this morning. Hey Mikey, I liked it. Blew off the Russian model this AM to watch the flick. fuck her. I'm wearing red. I see ghosts? I see myself covered in blood. I see people covered in blood but they are alive.
Do you see what I see? A child.
Some religious song is ...a chorus in my head.
He will bring us silver and gold.
I am waiting. Pieta
|Thursday, October 5th, 2000|
To Kant, the aesthetic dimension is the medium in which the senses and the intellect meet. The meditation is accomplished by the imagination, which is the third mental facilty. Moreover, the aesthetic dimension is also the medium in which nature and freedom meet. This twofold meditation is necessitated by the pervasive conflict between the lower and the higher faculties of man generated by the progress of civilization, progress achieved through the subjugation of the sensuous faculties to reason, and through their repressive utilization for socail needs. The philosophical effort to meditate, in the aesthetic dimension, between sensuousness and reason thus appears as an attempt to reconcile the two spheres of the human existence which were torn assunder by a repressive reality principle. The mediating function is performed by the aesthetic faculty, which is akin to sensuousness, pertaining to the senses. Consequently, the aesthetic reconciliation implies strenghtening sensuousness as against the tyranny of reason and, ultimately, even calls for the liberation of sensuousness from the repressive domination of reason." On the basis of Kant's theory, the aesthetic function becomes the central theme of the philosophy of culture, it is used t demonstrte the principles of a non-repressive civilization,in which reason is sensuous and sensuousness rational.
excerpts from EROS AND CIVILIZATION
|Wednesday, October 4th, 2000|
I have been fucking around. Doing very little.
I've got some ideas in my head. Taking a few photos. I like to feel things out with people and enviornments before I start shooting.
I've got quite a few attractions lately...distractions. Haven't acted on one yet. Butt...there's always tomorrow.
I was kindof getting into these wealthy, intellectual, handsome older guys...then.
I met these bad boys and I know they would be a good time.
Then a fuck from my past...who I know is into that sexual healing...ohlala. He's loaded.
But quite young and restless like me.
fucked with the dog, read techniques used by painters...organized,went downtown to shock and had coffee. looked at retro clothes. want to do some fashion retro shoots for my friend, especially on this furry,circular bed with mirrors on top/canopy.
went to the ceramics workshop.
went to the international gallery, checked out this french guy's shit. He had 50 monitors hooked up and had edited with the young and the restless, soapopera but took out on each monitor was a different expression repeated by different people...fast editing. sortof effective. slightly interesting. a little cheesy.
checked out some art.
went to the tattoo shop. hung out. shot a few photos. oh yeah, went to my friends warehouse/glallery chilled checked out the art and some art cars ect...talked about doing a film screening and tattoo show. the tattooed boys said we'll sponsor the tattoo show.
cool. haven't put a show on in this cowtown for awhile...but i could use some cash.
I'm horny as a motherfucker...too bad i'm bleeding. pieta
this seems like such bullshit. journals.
|Monday, October 2nd, 2000|
THE DAMN DOG IS BARKING.
1.take 3 photos of sandy
busy few days, making a little $
3.taxes 1999 ?
4.call polina/lady godiva
had an exciting few days, stayed at y's,
it's so relaxing there. I feel so spoiled.
Jackie O, yet i'm afraid somehow i'll get hurt.
no pain, no gain?
Have got to start taking photos.
will shoot on memory stick.
all i want to do is read, lounge and paint.
must write scripts and treatments with budget.
so many attractive, attentive men but somehow i feel it's a farce.
I fear intimacy.
DB was sooo mean, but i am learning to rise above pettiness, same fears as me.
hung out with the "cool people"
white trash party
rich people dressing up impoverished...they tried?
I was on the mark.
black leather pumps,black mini-skirt,gum,black velveteen halter,red lips,black,white and brown fake fur/with suede trim short jacket.
the look said hook.
got a little tipsy. munched on chips and dip watched the waterfall cascade into the pond reflexions within the pond of goldfish.
i want to fuck but i want something really deep.
|Tuesday, September 26th, 2000|
What's the point of this journal? I keep editing my bad behavior out.
A creature of habit.
sex. It seems to be on everyone's mind, but mine.
I stopped by a alternative newspaper today, to see what's up and show em my new camera.
Journalism just doesn't pay well.
That's probably why it's mostly propaganda.
Then went across the street helped my friend move in a couple of cement horse heads that were marked $999.00 each, broken, chipped but antiques none the less. The dealers dad was there from the Hamptons, said I would pay ten bucks for this.
I had to agree.
Then i cruzed down to what's kindof like soho for this area. Stopped in the Wellness Center. This woman is pumping mad money(millions) into this holistic center. The style is old jerulsem with buddist gods. The architecture and care they are taking with every choice of metal, wood, insulation, fountain ect...
So yesterday the Buddist Munks from Tibet had come in and done 6 i believe crystal sand mandalas
They really are beautiful. They will put glass over the top for the bar.(JUICE/TEA)
Then i went to my buddy's gallery and we hooked up my new camera and he dumped some footage in to edit. It looks good and easy. Mac 3. We are going to try to be a team, on some projects. We each agreed we want to work four hours a day editing. He was giddy with excitment, I was happy for him. He's like me here, get's down with the lack of support and boring bullshit. He brings in alot of cool shows. Outsider Art. He's a dealer and takes big percentages. That's why I have to watch him, I'm not letting anyone take advantage of me.
Anyways, then I split. Head to the tattoo shop thinking i can trade some photo/video for tattoos.
And they're closed. I left some copies, almost a book worth of animation information at z's house. He buzzes me up and says it's Monday night football, you want some wine? White and Red, the red was from Taurino,Italia. Some of my friends are from Taurino.
The party includes z, and 3.
I think they all do xxxx. I decline, stick with the weed and wine. I really got into the game. Hadn't watched football for awhile. Jags against the colts. In the last few years I've really developed an interest in the pro sports it takes the place of the ole days with all the pits and punk. good, clean vileonce violence.
so they leave accept for me an y, i want to see the end of the game. on three monitors. surround sound. i give in and do some xxxx. DUMB
I don't even like it. Peer pressure sucks. We talk a bit and z wants to go fuck. I'm like no.
no. no. I already told him. I just feel nothing for any0ne right now. I mean i could see myself getting into it for awhile and then be like midway ick. He's sweating on me.
go see another friend for a few minutes, go to the bar, smoke a few fags, listen to some whore talk about her role in some porno flick in nyc. She kinda comes onto me, but she kinda comes onto to the other three guys at the table. I leave come home. lie in bed, mad at myself, everything seems so pointless to me right now.
i'm torn between having a good time and wanting to create to educate. To change the course of history. How? do you ask? from someone who's/ whose? not even sure if i spelled course right.
Then i think...I've been around enuf dogooders and PC folks to feel it's all bullshit revolutionary games
to get high on power
instead of xxxx or xxxx or xxx.
does it really matter.
Everyone seems like an addict to me.
Addicted to sex, NA, xxxx or xxx whatever.
I'm hoping a change in scene and countries might help my depression. I'll feel better tomorrow. At least I'm productive.
Maybe I just need to get laid.
|Sunday, September 24th, 2000|
Worked today. Shot a mexican wedding. Started in the heart of the Mexican ghetto, at the bride's parents house. Somber, I pull up and there is the mariachie band...11-15? playing and the bride and her family, everyone in black or at these traditional they all wear cowboy gear. It was a somewhat unusual service. Everyone speaks spanish no english. The mariache at the church continue on to the reception.
I love their outfits, were marroon and gold embelsihed. There were 3 guitars,5 violins, and 4 trumpets/horns. various singers. I was thinking I could tie this footage in with the boxing.
I drove past the meat packing plants today on the way to the casa. I saw these metal tubes dumping out hunks of raw meat and bones into bins.
It was disgusting. I want to go back and film.
The reception was full of jokes to traditional weddings. The bride smashed the grooms face in the cake. There was a bottle of tequila and whiskey about every six inches on every table.
This particular group reminded me of gypsies somewhat.
Mariachie Bands/Profile Members/Group Leaders
History of Mariachie.
It made me realized how lucky I am. And how these people who work so hard and have so little, have just as rich if not a richer life than any of us.
|Saturday, September 23rd, 2000|
i did write yesterday,
i say what i mean
but I looked up and aol shut down.
chilled yesterday all day reading a few books. John Sallas...Doubling. Interesting and complex abstract philosophy.
researched on web.
Mimetic Skill,wit,action and autocueing ect...
Origins of the Modern Man/3 stages in the Evolution of Culture and Cognition
I want to find the Plotkin book on An evolutionary epistemological approach to the evolution of intellegence. In the evolutionary biology of Intelligence. (1988)
got my new camera today.
yeah, baby. It looks like cash money to me.
god! I sound like a capitalist pig.
I should be shot.
Bein' a good girl tonight.
Hangin' en de casa con mi nina.
Went to y's house and got my headphones, i walk in and there are these two girls from ? below Russia. The beautiful blonde model is a russian jewish immigrant refugee marketing student. She is interested in letting me shoot some photos. She said she had lots of different outfits.
I was thinking nude in the pool.
all work and no play.
gotta play with my cam.
|Thursday, September 21st, 2000|
ahhhhhh! i've been in a fucking rotten mood for weeks now. I'm sick of it here, but i have to wait for my camera. I think i'll be happy with my new toy.
My head hurts again tonight. I woke up this morning from a dream that I was shooting speed...I've never shot up drugs in my life. I was at y's house in the dream.
I was reading about this french filmmaker who committed suicide because he couldn't get the money to do the projects he wanted or that's what they eluded to.
I'm worried about money right now.
|Wednesday, September 20th, 2000|
This is so painful for me, or maybe it's the port I drank earlier or the margarita could it be the weed. I want to write everyday like my therapist suggested. I don't want to write for an audience, but yet I am aware, obviously others could read this.
I've been reading Artvamp's and Witchdoctors diary and scanned some various others. My fear would be of analysising my inadequacies and noticing spelling errors. I'm trying to think positive, reading this book on surfism and looking for the good in everyone...can be tiresome but oh so good for me. I am in trouble with the law...nothing serious but i have to take care of a warrent. It always comes down to money.
There seems to be so much sex talk in these journals...i guess in daily life people wanna know? What turns you on?
My last sexual encounter was a few weeks ago I guess, with a female friend. She deliberately got me drunk and one thing led to another. I guess I wanted to check her out. She had been in a serious relationship with a very cute female for the last 6 years and they just broke up. I feel kindof bad cuz it was just a fling for me. I don't have sex with alot of females but now and again. It's very different with each girl. I want both.
Kicking it. does take alot of my energy and i feel like shit was it really worth the time.
Sometimes yes. Sometimes no.
I still feel very empty. I have sex but not intmacy. It's a few years now that I have been alone. It's like living in Siberia.
I hung out in the gallery today...Fine Art and Antiques. Just me and the dealer, I learn so much there, but there is a sickness realated to collecting and possessing objects. I don't want them, but i find the history attached interesting. Enuf gibberish.
Good Night. Pieta
|Tuesday, September 19th, 2000|
Journaling...this is what my therapist wanted me to do months ago. Well, I should have listened to her. I entered many of my nicknames but to no avail, so I picked up the closest mag, National Geographic, scanned and came across "Pieta"
Martyrdom and Sorrow find Poignant expression in Michelangelo's beloved "Pieta," the only statue he ever signed. Mary and the crucified Jesus were carved from a block of Carrara marble when Michaelangelo was in his 20's. Michaelangelo completed the statue around 1500, the statue appeares to be in nearly perfect condition, despite a deranged man's attempt to destroy it, on May 21, 1972. A young Hungarian-born Australian, claiming that he was Jesus Christ, attacked the statue with a hammer. He delivered 15 blows before he was pulled away.
Mary's face suffered a chipped eyelid and broken nose, her shattered left arm was recovered along with dozens of smaller fragments. Restoration was completed in Christmas on 1972.
Today the "Pieta" remains on display in St.Peter's Basilica behind bullet proof glass.
A treasure contained. pieta.