Tag Archives: sunset

selections from The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie by Muriel Spark

“It’s only possible to betray where loyalty is due,” said Sandy. Continue reading

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Emily Dickinson favorites (701-1100)

To Whom the Mornings stand for Nights,
What must the Midnights – be! Continue reading

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Washington

IMG_5965 copy IMG_5986 copy IMG_6044 copy
IMG_6091 copy Continue reading

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an Elizabethan sonnet celebrating two years of Natalie

THE ORIGINAL, WRITTEN AT THE LIVING GALLERY IN BROOKLYN WITH A NOISE ROCK BAND WAILING

deserts, beaches, sunsets rise–
in beauty–paralleled by only you–
for whom my love burns even brighter
in celebration of our year two.

THE HANDWRITTEN VERSION, 120 CHARACTERS AS REQUIRED BY BLOOMTHAT

seaside sun & desert stars — in beauty paralleled by only you, for whom my love burns deeper in celebration of year two Continue reading

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i love you like i love the ocean

an hour later: 14mg of 2C-E on the 38 Outbound. a golf course. Lands End. Eagle Point Labyrinth. the beach. a starfish. two starfish. several starfish. millions of anemones. tiny, massive anemones. a fallen tree. 14 more mg of 2C-E on the fallen tree. prancing on rocks across water to a massive boulder. staring at the open sea. staring at a tweeter on the boulder. staring at the Golden Gate Bridge. the setting sun. the setting sun. the setting sun. the setting sun. prancing on rocks across higher water to my comrades. staring in silence. the setting sun. the rainbow sky. the where does the night begin? the lush water. the lush rainbow water. the lush rainbow water singing the eternal rock & roll song. Luna playing rock music. the moon rocking the earth. the lush water. the rich ocean. the rainbow-colored endless everything flowing and ebbing the shore, ebbing and flowing the mind. hot chocolate whiskey. uncertainty. go back to where you came from. a walk in the dark. under the trees. death. thinking of death. thinking of Chris dead. thinking of mother dead. thinking i understand not love. i say i love the city. i say i love the ocean. i say i love my cousin. i say i love my mother. i know not how much. i know only so little. i try so hard. i fail so hard. walking in the dark. the bridge, the rocks, the city. what a good choice. like humans do. lights in the sky. lights on the hills. lights in the sea. lights in my eyes. lights in my brain, flashing all the same. engines, animals, boxes, hallucinations. walking in the dark. the Sutro baths. blocked off staircases. trusting my hungry, thirsty body. retreating into dark alcoves. sitting on the dark throne. contemplating community. understanding unity. walking in the dark, listening in the dark tunnel, giggling. a balance act. loving to stay dry, not needing a nut nor a sandwich. no risk necessary, just love and peace and silence. but war has given us mars. but time has given me pain. but time has given me love. but what will the net result be? when i die, will i be warm. to be alive is to be cold. contemplating community. death. understanding unity. life. off the beaten path to return to street lamp civilization. the height of Sutro’s madness. the twinkling fogless city. the end of the Geary line. the roller coaster 38 Inbound. the black panther and his aura. the rushed goodbyes. the long quick walk through downtown, crazy. depressing dada, nobody there but the walking dead. no funk no beats not forever at least. Continue reading

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The Tale of the Lebanese Princess

i remember details too clearly and i need to do something with them. Continue reading

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Whole Lotta Love [archive]

yeah, it don’t stop, yeah it don’t quit…. peace happiness and love overflowing from a thirtieth-floor fountain.

Allison was a birthday present that came to me one day late, but i didn’t mind. within an hour or two of her arrival we went to Fort Funston; i think she really missed the hang gliders. too bad the wind wasn’t so good. the only things in the sky were epic motherfucking clouds, silly little metal planes, and birds of all shapes and sizes, but mostly crows. we also caught a little beetle crawling along. blazed some new trails. i’m always happier after going to that place. my favorite in the world for sure.

and then we got El Faro! fuck yeah burritos! alright! and then we watched Sin City, finally, after years of people telling me that it was right up my alley. and they weren’t wrong. who can complain about tits and guns? not me. but still, it was just ok. the best chapter was the one with that superhuman freak dude that just kicked everyone’s asses constantly. that was fun.

apparently Allison had been feeling nostalgic for more than just hang gliders, because the next day i found myself in san bruno hitting little white balls in the same direction for an hour with long metal sticks. no but really, it was fun… Danny came with us. driving range > golf.

for dinner, the girl and i drove down the Embarcadero to the financial district, where we met up with the girl’s cousin and her fiance at their apartment. they are super sweet. we all had had dinner once a couple years ago around the same time of year at the Stinking Rose in North Beach. this time we hit up some scrumptious burger joint near where they lived. my burger had bacon and a fried egg on it. need i say more? with our stomachs beyond happy on beer and buns, the four of us walked to the water’s edge and gazed upon the glowing Bay Bridge. nothing like a sexy San Francisco sight after a delectable dinner.

Allison and i didn’t really know what to do next, so we decided to drive over to this old saloon in North Beach (supposedly the oldest in the whole city; that is, maybe 150 years old). we never made it there, though. first, we stopped at this fudge shop and picked up some delicious treats. then we kept on walking to City Lights Bookstore, this independent bookstore-publisher combination founded in 1953 by Beat poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti. they’re famous for facing an obscenity trial after publishing Allen Ginsberg’s Howl and Other Poems in 1956. i was going crazy, so many great books, i want the whole goddamn Pocket Poets Series. i picked up NUMBER ONE, Ferlinghetti’s Pictures of the Gone World. two books i’m currently reading:

my parents + my Uncle Ron + my Aunt Janice met up with us at the bookstore, and brought us over to Caffe Trieste for rightly bitter cappuccinos and rightly sweet family stories. Allison loved my Uncle Ron and definitely got some insight into where ronny ii came from. (side story: according to Behind the Name, Ronny is the diminutive form of Ronald, which itself is the Scottish form of Ragnvaldr, an Old Norse name composed of the elements regin “advice, counsel” and valdr “ruler.” moral: you can call me Ragnvaldr.)

caffeinated and loved, we took a little midnight drive to Ocean Beach to see if we could crash any cool bonfire party. i ended up mostly being paranoid about my car getting CITED or TOWED in the beach parking lot and holy shit i just realized that if you take the ‘e’ out of ‘beach’ you have ‘bach.’ that’s cool. but yeah, i had to wake up early the next morning, so we didn’t linger long. (no matter, insomnia [among other things] struck like a mother that night. no matter, the night ended well, though late.)

Danny graduated on Saturday. congratulations boy! sorry about the location…

church is so awful. i really can’t stand it at all. people reciting shit they don’t even understand or care to think about, a motherfucking richly garbed asshole in the front preaching (literally, preaching) to us what we need to do to “get to heaven” or something, a motherfucking richly garbed building encircling us, protecting us from the disgusting sin of the outside world. churches should let anyone enter. churches should be sanctuaries for the poor and dying and homeless and hungry, but instead they are king-fucking-sized beds for the rich and content to make themselves richer and more content. google “puke.”

anyway, i enjoyed the part where some Junipero Serra High School authority read the words “Danny ****,” whereupon my dad, older brother, and couple friends screamed and howled out in defiance of the explicit instructions to not cheer for particular individuals. i was trying to get escorted out by cathedral security, but it didn’t work, unfortunately.

in between graduation and graduation party, Adam made it to my house from Santa Cruz. while i was getting dressed, while my mix cd was burning, while Christian was driving over, Allison, Adam, and i lollygagged hardcore. we drummed, we spun the disco ball in the sun, we danced. it was beautiful. Cut Copy is actually kinda good.

so what do you get when you combine brothers, mothers, fathers, uncles and aunts from Arizona, cousins from southern California, cousins from northern California, parents’ co-workers, friends from elementary school, friends from middle school, friends from high school, friends from college, and whiskey, wine, and disco? a really fucking awesome graduation party. thanks, mama and papa! thanks Quicksilver Messenger Service! thanks Broken Social Scene! thanks Bob Marley! thanks Jose! thanks everybody! as for Tori: let’s just say you better have made it to Sasquatch!

naturally, i didn’t wake up feeling like the million bucks i probably raked in from presents. still, with the help of certain accoutrements and various ambiguous activities, i was restored to something resembling happiness. but my legs were still shaky. oh but then Allison and i cooked delicious beggel sandwiches with melted jack cheese and oranjuice.

merry, weathered, post-egg ion, we flew over to SFMOMA to stare at modern art for a few hours with Mark, Erin, Christian, Adam, and his parents. here are a few of my favorites from the exhibitions:

Rene Magritte, Personal Values (1952)

can you believe how hard it is to find a good quality version of a goddamn Magritte painting on the Internet? what is this? anyway, that’s the best i could do, but it doesn’t even approach the greatness of the real thing. the detail is astonishing. he’s classic for a reason.

Jackson Pollock, Guardians of the Secret (1943)

James Rosenquist, Leaky Ride for Dr. Leakey (1983)

Jeff Koons, Michael Jackson and Bubbles (1988)

Larry Sultan, My Mother Posing for Me (1984)

Henry Wessel, Southern California (1985)

well then. apparently good art came out of the 80s after all. another amazing piece: some artist harvested Flickr for millions of pictures of sunsets, cropped the sun out in its own little rectangle, and pasted them all together in an epic collage. the wall at the museum only fit a thousand suns or so, but i would love to see the entire work all together.

immediately following modern art, the fantastic five meandered across a crosswalk, past a wedding, up some stairs, and through a mini-garden to drink some modern tea. it was all terribly good, but anytime i drink tea, i really just find myself fantasizing of Turkey.

tea was followed by a brief jaunt to Market in search of a bakery, in search of cheesecake, after which we drove up to the Hydeout to make Alicia make us drinks. nothing like sitting on the second-floor of a bar on Nob Hill, drinking mojitos, and beating my friends’ asses at Sorry! oh, and Thai food got involved somehow too. life: so so good.

the night was spent in expectation of seeing Young Prisms play at the hemlock tavern. the two bands that i saw open for them, Weekend and Grave Babies, were interesting. i kept hearing them as Joy Division + Spacemen 3 (GB was more on the S3 side and W was [sometimes] more on the JD side). i definitely enjoyed myself though. you can never go wrong with live music. Young Prisms seem a lot tighter than the last time i saw them and a lot more willing to sing audibly. interesting.

i’ve been listening to a shitload of Led Zeppelin lately. i think this tends to happen whenever i spend massive amounts of time with either Allison or Shannon. it’s never a mistake. Jimmy’s sideways wanking, Bonham’s epic whale stomping, Plant’s divine moans, and Jones’ whatever, all amazing. How the West Was Won and Houses of the Holy have definitely been getting special treatment. LCD Soundsystem has been getting a lot of love too. they are playing live in SF and LA soon, but i never got tickets because i don’t know where i am, where i’m going to be. but now all the shows are sold out. oh well, there’s still a chance.

as i mentioned earlier, my mix cd is complete. it doesn’t have an official name, but the playlist from where i burned it was called ‘the imp bottle,’ named after this great Stevenson short story i read last week. there are 15 copies of the mix corresponding to its fifteen songs (electronic rock, blues rock, soul, latin, garage rock, r&b, reggae, concerto, classic rock, alternative rock, indie pop, psychedelic rock, folk rock, electronica, and pop) and it runs for 1:00:02.

  1. ???
  2. Tori
  3. ???
  4. Mark
  5. Burd
  6. Micah
  7. Adam
  8. ???
  9. Meryl
  10. Emma
  11. Rich
  12. Shannon
  13. Allison
  14. Rachel
  15. Chris

i can’t wait for you to hear it! Continue reading

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see you tomorrow [archive]

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