grr. still cant log in to FB from my phone. i got a confirmation code, but can't put it in from here cuz of Technical Issues. Maybe just as well.. or not!!

Edison's Pub has now been properly Christma-fied. Whee.

It's not art until it makes me bleed. One way or another. Sometimes i think the literal way is better than the virtual.

4got my phone 2day. Too many projects going on @once. Theater Mac being ultrawonky. Thank th Gods 98% is already loaded 2 the soundboard PC!

back to the sound mines. If i turn back i'll be the death of you..

guess my prev update didn't post :-p Tech officially over 4 today; the soundfiles that WORKED have been approved, so thats some relief. Now to edit a 43min Colorforms piece down to about a minute.. (*lots* of experimental/noise in this soundscape!) http://ping.fm/g9Yi6

RIP Patty Dolan. One more candle to light on Saturday. :-(

ping pong headache

It is time and past time for the tides to shift again. i sense them coming in.. too soon to feel, to see or smell; but they announce their arrival all the same. Everything is due to shudder, re-align itself into new patterns. And i am nervous, not knowing where they will fall. Where i will land when they do.

i have been riding a witch-wave, trying to surf the currents. To land in El Mundo Bueno. Surely a way exists to find it, surely there is some break, something that can take me safely through to where i belong - but i have not yet found it, and my time grows short. i know that i am on the path, headed in the right direction. Just not yet there. How do i find it, how do i break through to where i need to be?

i cannot follow where the crow flies, though i may speak with them as messengers. i am still Between, neither wholly of that world nor this. Its not that i wish to leave this world behind - i am not seeking that, not exactly. No, it is my path and choice to bring that world to this one, to shape and change the world around me so that it more closely resembles the places i go beyond the wall of sleep.

And the patterns are shifting. i have been on this cusp before, or one very like it - and yet not the same. The last time i was here it was darker, denser, the way ahead far less clear. Now - now i can see the places where things have re-aligned themselves. Old obstacles have melted, though the toughest still remain. i hold on to hope, Nothing Left But Faith to see me through. i always land on my feet somehow; but not without leaning hard on others to maintain my balance. Too much on some as those i sense 'should' be there duck away. Perhaps that is a failing of my senses.

By my touchstones, the subtle rhythm of the tides, messages in bird calls, secret directions in the pages of fiction, i'm on a road - i'm on The Road. i feel my luck could change, If. How much do i dare? i am not completely throwing down to Fate, walking away and passively waiting for the silver carpet to unroll at my feet. i navigate by faith and trust and instinct; they steer me generally in the right direction but not without bumping into rocks and tearing my fins on sharp knuckles. Sometimes i think i don't trust enough and sometimes that i trust too much - or in the wrong places.

i swim as the currents ebb and flow around me, comb out my hair on the rocks, and sing what i can. i have all stories to tell, and none. i have shored up my sand castle with pebbles, but winter promises to be early and bleak. Every lifeline i think i have found ripped away. i shall not drown, that avenue closed to me. i have seeded, and there is growth, but will the harvest be enough to sustain me? Majik demands my time, but will it honour the bargain i seek to strike? Too many questions. i must dive, and see where i surface next.

wedding carnage

Lordy what a day. Me and twenty or so of my sisters (including my pals Sue, Carol, Deb and Holly) all got hitched to our cousins yesterday. Sadly, not a single groom lived to see his wedding night: "there's been a slaughter here". Blood all over the field. Now i know what it must've been like to be a maenad.

No, no, sade hasn't finally gone off the deep end and lived up to my namesake. This was all in the spirit of fun. And Theater. Acting. Thank You. Big Love (no relation to the show) opens in two weeks. Even if we *wanted* to have fifty brides and grooms onstage, as implied in the script, the Liminis just isn't that big - so we added a virtual cast of extras.

And what a hoot! We had around two dozen couples, guys in suits and girls in everything from full wedding gowns to bridal nightgowns to white cocktail gowns to oh hell, any old white dress will do! We got hitched - against *our* feminine wills, i might add - by a priest of indeterminate denomination. We had a big fat (authentic) Greek wedding dance. A few lucky couples got to cut the lovely cake, which was gaily trimmed with blood-red roses. A few more couples got in on it for a full-on food fight. We all drank (faux) shots and danced again, which turned into a mosh pit; and then a ridiculously fun pile-up, everyone on top of everyone else.

Alas after that those poor brave fellows were butchered. We had so much blood flying around that field, our cameraman had to stop and wipe his lens coz he couldn't see what he was shooting! Every bride had a different weapon - a couple grooms were just knifed but the rest fell to any tool we could find. Crowbar, hack- and handsaw (both weilded by the same vengeful bride), ax, etc. i chopped mine up with a machete. Mark got screwed to death with a big old shoulder-brace drill. Big Daddy had his hand lopped off by a kitana, and Shawn had both his arm and foot sawed off. There were body parts strewn everywhere, and gore-spattered brides laughing and carrying on despite the carnage.

When it was all over, we had cake for everyone and hosed sticky, bloody participants down on the sidewalk. Several of the blood-soaked brides and their reanimated corpse husbands went down to the Tap House for Bloody Marys. i had to pass on that as i was helping finish cleaning up - amazingly, the dummy cake parts all survived; tho they're a little worse for wear. Haven't quite figured out how i'm going to clean those for our gracious cake baker Dee - maybe she knows some trade secrets?

It was tiring being out in the sun all afternoon, and then i went and jumped in my friend's pool and lazed around for an hour after; so by nighttime i was preeeetty well worn out. Was supposed to spin at the Duck but i didn't really consider how much this would take out of me - well, it wasn't clear that i was even going to BE a bride until the last minute. Originally the shoot was going to be Saturday, but it stormed Sat morning and we were concerned about the cameras in the rain - not to mention that even once it stopped, it would have been MUDDY, and slippery, and really humid on top of hot. This way worked out better, but some people (like Sarah, who had a matinee show at Bang and Clatter) had conflicts and couldn't make it Sunday. Fortunately she and i apparently wear the same size in wedding dresses, so it all worked out.

Curiously enough, by Sunday evening several of our unfortunate intended seem to have gotten the Frankenstein jolt, so there were a few zombie grooms spotted wandering around Tremont. i ran into a couple undead at Corissa's CD release, which seems to have drawn at least half the population of Tremont down to Lucky's. It was a beautiful evening for that too - nights have been balmy, warm enough to be outside but not *hot*, and everyone was enjoying the lovely night on their patio. Only after writing this did i realize this was our midsummer gather, or perhaps the last one in a week or so of festivity. Not Last One Evar sort of thing, more like a peak that brought everyone out like an old-time church supper.

i love being able to be part of what is functionally a small town where everyone knows everyone else - but its not like oh, there's old drunk Otis from down the block, and here comes Charlie, we all know he's a little nuts, and don't let Zeke catch you talkin to his old lady or he'll bust your face. Instead its all artists and musicians and creative people; and when we all get together like we did tonight, the energie generated is, well, really positive. Not trying to say there's never any drama - in a small town, everybody knows everybody else's business. But on the whole people are really open and supportive of each other, even if any one person's thing may not be your particular cup of kombucha. i'm honored to be counted a part of that, a village elder.

And that, my good people, is how i spent this lovely Sunday in July. i hope you all got to or will get to do something equally as uplifting with one of your summer Sundays. This has been one of those days i'll happily look back on the rest of my life.

Half a Horrible Holiday

i have my Issues w/the Fourth of July. There are reasons for that, but also reasons not to - i *have* enjoyed it in the past; i need to connect with those associations and not more recent, ugly ones. It came up in conversation Sat. night that it can be one of those dates, like New Years Eve, when one might pause and reflect back on where they were in previous years and take stock. i suppose one could make a case for those two being our secular equivalents to the solstices.

i wasn't particularly thinking about it one way or the other coming in to it, other than to not really be paying much attention. Which may have a lot to do with why the early part of the day was really good for me. We had a theater party out east, at the home of the folks i was house-sitting for. It was a nice, relaxed gather, with FAR too much good food , yummy martinis, entertainment, and a pool. Fun, but not ~quite~ warm enough to be relaxing. It was good exercise, but i got a chill which took a while to shake. i also shot a black powder gun, something i've never done, and wouldn't have CONSIDERED four years ago. i had fun and wasn't at all bothered by the noise or explosions, at least that i could tell then.

i gave a couple folks a ride back to town; we were heading downtown as the city display was going off, and that was fine too. This is probably the first year i've been able to watch fireworks and not be bothered by them since i don't know when. Dropped one of them off and then went on to the big Tremont/Ohio City bash where Mr. & Ms. Everyone were going. i knew going in that this was a rooftop party, but thought nothing of it. Why should i?

Various factors: When i arrived, a cranky toddler was at the top.. i thought he was scared to come down, but it turned out he wanted to do it HIMSELF, and did - so i'm watching this very small boy come down a rather unsafe climb. Other people up there were also suffering vertigo, and/or stress over going back down the scary ladder. i was already a bit physically worn out, and a bit psychically open. And we were three stories up, slightly higher than nearby buildings. The view of downtown was gorgeous, actually, but i couldn't appreciate it. The retaining walls really weren't, merely crenelations. The roof was grey, soft, slightly pitched, and it was just past twilight. All of which added up to one major panic attack for me.

i got down before it really hit, but then i was at a fairly large party, with very few people i knew. It turned out that this was actually a *neighbor's* party being held in tandem, and the folks i knew better had moved to the other one - only i didn't know where that was. From there on, it just didn't get any better. What i needed was to get the hell out of there, go somewhere i felt Safe and could ground; but i couldn't easily do that. People are used to me being someone who keeps it all together, blah blah blah, and i had Responsibilities.

Parts of the party were alright too tho.. Being there didn't *suck*, but it was too much of a fête for me to be able to relax and get grounded again. Oh, and my eye - i'd managed to get ground clove on my contact lens (don't ask) so my eye was already irritated, and the later it got, the more i needed to get the irritation out of there like, yesterday. Alas i had agreed to play taxi. With an eye that was by then so gummed up my vision was *badly* blurred. Through one of the more urban parts of town. On the night of a big party holiday when cops are everywhere.

Are we surprised that by the time i finally, finally got home, i was a total wreck? This is already long enough so i won't detail all the various stress factors that are lurking and will soon have to be Dealt With, but suffice to say every single one of them came crashing in on me. At some point i guess exhaustion finally won out. i know i managed to fall asleep, because a *very* late night text woke me up. And once awake, i realized that i smelled something burning.. not food or paper, but Large Wooden Something, like, a house. My whole apartment smelled like Starwood on a Saturday night. There was a fairly catastrophic explosion & house fire in Tremont just a couple weeks ago, so one more thing for my over-over-stressed and freaked out system to worry about. i never did figure out where it was, only that it wasn't *here* or close enuf to affect me, so somehow exhaustion managed to shut me down enuf to sleep.

All of which means i was generally pretty useless at set build. Fortunately we'd had a good turnout, so me being 98% useless today wasn't too much of an issue. i was gifted a massage and some energy work, and finally did make it over to my good friends' yard & pool, and a relaxing afternoon in the sunshine.

All in all, i'm on my way back to alright now, and of course i'm from the What Doesn't Kill Me school so - this too shall pass. Maybe next year the 4th will be just happy and relaxing like it is for other people. i almost got there this year; it was a good beginning and a good end. But that middle part went way too heavy on the suck for me.

set strike @ theater. Car still in shop; got jello bicycle legs. Big Love is going to be big; save a weekend in Aug to see it! http://ping.fm/aCey6

Crow's Tree

If you are reading this, you're probably already aware that we lost brin metzendorf (aka madbunny, aka Samual Crow Walker), a valued member of many of Cleveland's edgier arts scenes, last month. This past weekend, a number of his friends and associates gathered in Tremont's Lincoln Park to plant a living memorial to him.

If you go to the gazebo in the center of the park and then head down the path leading directly out to West 14th street, you'll notice three younger trees on the left-hand side. The middle one of these, a cherry tree set farther back, is his tree. Crows like cherries, you know; and its a rather tall and skinny tree, for a tall and skinny fellow.

i'd like to ask people who are in and around Tremont to stop by from time to time. Whether walking your dog, catching some rays, or just relaxing on an afternoon, take a little detour to visit. Bring some water if it hasn't rained lately, but bring something else too. Bring the things you'd tell brin if you could. What are you up to lately, what are you working on, what have you accomplished? Play some music, read it a poem, work on a sketch beneath the branches. Consider it a sort of mailbox where you can drop off messages - and who knows, maybe receive some as well.

i know that not everyone who reads this will share my beliefs and ideas about things beyond the known, but that's ok. This can still be just a nice spot in the park, a living thing that needs all of our care and attention to thrive. But if you have Belief - and i know that brin himself did - it can also be something More. There are many things a Tree of Tales can mean, many ways it can manifest. i have my vision; i hope you all will add yours. And most of all, pass the message along. This spot may be most special to those who knew and loved him, but the idea is one that can grow past even his wide circle of influence.

Thanks, folks. To everyone who came out and helped plant, and everyone who will continue to nurture both the tree and the legacy brin left behind. And if you'd like to discuss any of the deeper concepts implied here, i can often be found on the patio at Edison's, at the theater, or sitting outside Civilizations. Just ask for the village witch.

Festival drop

oh look. a computer. *my* computer, that is; which i've not used nor looked at in days. Been on other ones, primarily the windoze machine that runs the lighting board software. And a bit online as FB/myspz/twitter friends know. But not where i could sit and think in pixels uninterrupted.

So. yes. Currently suffering from a bad case of festival drop, or near as dammit. We put on one HELL of a show/party Sat. night. Depending on where i post this, some of you may even have been there. For those that weren't, well. i kept saying beforehand that afterwards people would/will be saying Damn, sorry i missed it; i'm expecting that even more now as word gets around. While it didn't go off flawlessly - at least one major technical hiccup, though it didn't interfere w/running the show - the flaws were of the sort that only the run crew would be aware of. For everyone else, it was an amazingly good time.

Should some be out of the loop, we did a major concert/performance/video shoot at the MC warehouse Sat. night, attended by over a hundred of our closest friends. The space belongs to bass player Frank, who realized somewhere along the way that this was his version of a midlife crisis. Glad he figured that out on his own; i wasn't going to break it to him lol ;-} Srsly, tho, if ya gotta have one, what a way to go about it. We have a stage thats inspired by the bridge of the starship Enterprise, 1960s version. We have a lightshow that maybe isn't quite Pink Floyd at the Stadium c.1978 - but knocks socks off some local concert clubs.We had four bands, tho two of them were different configurations of the Center for Rock Research, which in turn shared members with the other two (RYDR and Morticia's Chair). We had props, costumes, skits between bands and an overall concept underlying the whole thing. And one HELL of a good time putting it all together.

At this point, the days and nights have rolled into one for me; i'd have to consult my dayrunner to figure out what days i *wasn't* there. i think i lived there from Thurs thru Sunday; tho was i there Weds night too? i was, just don't recall where (if?) i slept. Several marathon sessions on the lighting console - i'm not ready to go pro with the thing by a long shot; otoh, i can now program a basic lightshow, which i couldn't do a month ago. And after staying up all night a couple nights in a row, i've gotten to where i'm itching to move on to intermediate level.

It was very apparent to me that the last songs in MC's set were much better lit than the first; evidence of my learning curve in action. i didn't even get to rehearse running their cues til they were live on stage - the drummer's had health issues, so their Weds. night practice was to the drum track of recent recordings, and i wrote cues listening to studio versions on an iPod. CRR fared better, as Frank had a bit more time to design some truly gorgeous lighting for the Radiohead set, much of it timed and themed to match the music. Their Rush set, well, matched the band name; but Matt got put in charge of running that and i think he was better up to responding to playing the console on the fly. Me, i need cuesheets unless i REALLY know the material - like i do w/ MC.

But now what? Well, car repair alas - aside from the audio glitch, the only other snafu of the evening was that someone tried to jack my car late Sat. after it was all over. i honestly don't recall leaving my window open enuf to fit an arm thru, nor my passenger door unlocked; but i must've done one or the other as that's how i found it. At least they were able to get in w/out breaking any windows. They smashed my ignition w/a brick but only succeeded in knocking the module out of the steering column; fortunately, they weren't then able to use the screwdriver trick to get it going; or else were interrupted, don't know which. Either way, the car was still there, not a thing stolen, only damage the ignition module. We can pop it back in and get the engine to turn over but it won't stay running; some internal failsafe i guess. Don't yet know if i can get just that fixed or if its going to mean the whole steering column; hoping the former coz its not like i have bucks to throw at car repair just now :-\

However, Big Love beckons - yeah, not that kind, don't get your hopes up ;-p Big Love is the summer play; rehearsals began last week so as of tonite i'm back at the theater every evening there isn't a performance. i'm housesitting over this weekend, which will mean unlimited access to internet; tho with this self-imposed fast, i find that after checking all main accounts & sites and doing a few updates, i'm too bored to sit around looking at anything else (the main reason i'm no longer active on Living Room Salon; i'd really prefer to hold conversations live and in person). Hoping i get called for an interview this week, tho if that can wait til after i have a car again, it'd be nice. i did have a phone interview last week so its not entirely wishful thinking.

Now, tho, i've a bike tire to put air into, a garden to check in on, stuff to do at the library, then eventually make my way to Tremont one way or another. All of which will have happened, in theory, by the time this posts. And the next thing i know it'll be Solstice, which already has several competing demands on my time; followed by Somebody's birthday weekend and ditto; then July 4th and - uh-yah, ditteaux it is. Which leaves one whole week before i fly to Colorado to surprise my folks, see my broheim and my aunt, uncle, and cousins. Who, aside from parents and brother, i haven't seen in - twenty years? Or so? Then Big Love opens when i get back and runs thru August and then summer's over and i'll be booking into fall before that happens. For somebody who was never too good with time to begin with, my concept has gotten both more flexible and more precise at once.

Anyhoo. Sounds like Bloo is repairable - magician to the rescue! - so i need to shower, dress, and make like a tree. Laterz, good people. Love ya all.

kick that habit man

So the staying off the computer exercise is having interesting results. i've been internet-dependent for about fifteen years now, which has become an expensive habit. i'm not missing that aspect of it. However, having set myself a 'job' that requires i be online - well, that part's a little more complicated.

To an extent, i'm doing what i did in Conneaut; getting everything written and ready to go at home, then uploading it all the next time i'm online. But with the lack of home internet, i find i have less use for the computer overall, or perhaps less interest. And when i'm not sitting in this chair, i'm - brace yourself - doing other things. Of such matters my w00t is made.

Which might sound like i am now ooh, productive; but one of the things i'm doing is reading books again so that mitigates it a bit. But i can look around and see tangible results. After two years, i am now settled in to my apartment and have it fairly well tweaked into a live/work space; at the same time (are you *sure* that moon's not in Gemini?!)(no, but its opposing it) i have lived in ways that were so far from optimal for working for so long i've forgotten how to be here to take advantage of it.

Another reason i'm on a computer-restricted diet right now is that i've had this notion kicking around for a while of picking up the life i left off living in the 70s. Or perhaps i mean living the life now that i envisioned i would one day live then. Of course i haven't built my own Art House out in the woods somewhere, but then again i've come to realize that unless it was in a woodland community of like-minded art people who i really get along with well, i wouldn't want to live that way now.

But in terms of being an Art Bitch a la CSS? Hrm, actually i'm sure they're hardly computer-free! Well, some synthesis, then. How *did* i live when i didn't have this little box plugged in between me and the world? It certainly wasn't boring then. Hell, a good many of my Adventures took place before i ever let this innocent little device take over my life. And the upside of all this is that i find i am connecting with the world again - not that i'd gotten disconnected, but i engaged less with the world around me. "No i never will neglect my world again." That's a line from the Tear Garden, who are the only thing i've been listening to other than 2112 and OK Computer for weeks (except for the occaisional dose of NPR). Another thing programming my headspace right now.

The important part about all this, tho, is that i *am* making things happen. Positive things. This is an experiment in programming the human biocomputer though i forget which circuit - the highest three always confused me a bit. Each seemed rather like the others; but i've also assumed that they were states one had to experience to really understand. i can say i feel i'm somewhere that isn't the first five which is really good enough for me. If i were online right now, i'd be googling a link to the Leary-Wilson Eight Circuit Model for readers who aren't familiar; but you're going to have to do that for yourselves, sisters and brothers.

As for me, i have to make use of the time i am allowing myself with this machine. i used to use it as a different sort of tool before the ubiquituous net infected it (me?). i'm working on reclaiming those ways now. Some people may be bemused to learn that i'm going backwards in operating systems to do so - i don't have the evil microsquash suite o'doom on here so i'm using Appleworks like i always did, and that has to run under OS9 'Classic'. My rant about that hasn't really changed - i found it a more productive way to use the computer than OSX for all its bells and whistles - but i'm acclimated now. (Insert snarky comment about my first experience with Vista tonight here).

And that, as they say in show business, means i'm outta here. i do check in nearly every day, so if there's anything you want to point my attention to, ping me direct. Hope your summer's off to as inspiring a start as i hope & feel mine is. Catch ya later, tweeps.

Working Things Out in Groups

First day of June and i started the day by closing my windows, turning on the heat, and crawling back under the covers until it was warm enuf to get out of bed. Doesn't bode well for a long hot summer, which everyone seems to be expecting somehow. Haven't consulted the almanac but my breath, i am not holding it.

So i am currently engaged in the experiment of living an internet-free life. OK, i haven't given it up *completely*; witness this blog. But my use has become minimal - check email, Facebook, maybe myspace; banking and bills and i'm out. i'm not reading Twitter, Walls, message boards, articles, other blogs - i'm reading books. And doing stuff.

It seems a logical progression, somehow. i've been actively on line for about sixteen years, now. And i think the internet, for me, has hit that wall that all the mega-apps ran into around the turn of the century - its now been tweaked right up to its capacity; anything truly new will have to come from some sort of breakthrough. Some way of using it that hasn't happened until now. Social media, of course, wants to be that breakthrough. Its got potential. Alas for it, it arrives at a time when i realize i'd just rather be out there living my life than sitting in front of a computer screen writing about it. Even in 140 character blurbs.

So what am i doing with all this fabulous life i now have time to lead? Doing what i do best, of course: keeping busy. i've gotten space in a new community garden that's started a little ways west of here. i need to put a new inner tube in my tire, but i intend to bike over there to work on it a couple mornings a week (if the weather ever warms up). Its gone from vacant lot to - well, garden - in a few short months. There's raised beds, a central herb spiral, compost pile, walkways and a shady seating area. Next week, there's going to be a pot luck which i'm looking forward to because we have a wide ethnic representation, a number of newly immigrated families from various locales.

i'm a big fan of Starhawk's novel "The Fifth Sacred Thing" because it strikes me as a very potentially *workable* utopia (even the politics, tho that's not what i'm talking about here). In it, Northern California has more or less seceded and become its own little functional hippie-socialist nation state. i won't say her ideals are perfect, but they make a hell of a lot more sense than the bloated, unsustainable consumerist model that's bleeding us all dry now. i love this garden, and so many like them, because they Feel like definite steps on the path to that sort of survivable future.

i'm on hiatus from the theater at the moment, or have been; i guess if we have read-thru tonight for the summer show, that's about to end as rehearsals start. Of course the troupe is its own little microcosmic tribe: we've had people pass through and others (like myself, i guess) take root. This month for the first time we lost one of our own with the death of brin metzendorf (aka Samual Crow Walker) who performed under the name madbunny as well. This is a loss i'm still personally processing, so don't care to say too much about here; but i will say that in its aftermath, people seem to be coming together again, making an effort not to let life drift us all apart. Whether ultimately this will result in more than a slew of new Facebook friends its hard to say, but i'm at least enjoying the impulse while it lasts.

Right now, my biggest project is working with Morticia's Chair. We are putting on a show in two weeks - and i don't mean 'hey kids, let's put on a show!' (even if it might trace to exactly that impulse) so much as we are puttin' on a muthafukkin' SHOW, a'ight?? And i just know that afterwards, there's going to be a whole buttload of people saying "Oh, i wish i'd've seen it, it sounds cool, blah de blah blah blah". Well YOU don't have to be one of them; you can go to Center for Rock Research and gitcher ticket raht *now* (June 13th, $10, private party, no sales at door, Midtown area).

Yes i'm pimping this as hard as i can, because we have put as much work into this as any production done at the Liminis. And its on the *scale* of productions there. Without seeing the space, its hard to grasp just how cool this whole damn thing is, so take my word on it, k? And if the fact that CRR is playing ALL of Rush's 2112 *and* ALL of Radiohead's OK Computer *AND* MC is playing *AND* RYDR is opening up *AND* there's skits between - if all that isn't enough, well, this is my very first foray into lighting design and programming, and i'm feeling pretty effing good about it. So ya better show up coz i don't want to have to kick your ass for not being there afterwards. i'm the butch one don't forget, i will, too.

Yeah, i'm excited bigtime about this. i'm jazzed about the show itself, but even moreso at the opportunity its presented me. i know i'm still a ways off from being a "lighting designer" but i feel i've crossed a line where i'm now more that than not. i spent a ten-hour marathon session on the board yesterday that went from Wait, how does this work again; to having fifteen pre-sets programmed in. Given that before we started this, i knew how to hit lighting cues on time *and that's all*, i'm proud of myself. Even more so because this isn't just gels on par cans. We've got LED cans and half a dozen specials (including a lit arch over the 'bridge', floor specials, smoke, and the OK Computer itself) and scanners that can make daisies or stars or pinwheels in damn near any color you like and and and. And and, there's about fifteen different ways to make any given effect happen, so making the transition to where i Grok it is a big one. Its a really good feeling for me, so i hope some friends show up i can show off my hard work to!

You say you want some more, well, here's some more. i'm going to be performing as a living statue at the Murray Hill Art Walk this coming Sunday; another thing i'm excited about. i've done this a couple times (life modelling as well, which i'm also doing once a week) but this is my first gig doing it on my own. i'm thinking to be a sort of Spring/Summer Goddess type figure.. of course if it were authentically Graeco-Roman i'd have to do it w/one breast bared but i think we won't quite go that far. Still, as soon as i write this i'm off to the thrifts in search of costuming. If you're in Cleveland, stop by sometime; i'm supposed to be on the south side of Mayfield just below the hill, hoping it neither rains nor freezes nor gets beastly hot! Hm, i might need a helper to come by and feed me water every so often - who's free on Sunday?

i think that's about got me covered for the next two weeks. We'll be going in to rehearsal on Big Love soon, which opens at the end of July. We're planning a tribute/benefit in brin's memory which will also likely happen end of July. At War for the Forseeable Future will be doing a one-time reunion gig for that show, which i'm highly looking forward to. i'm going to Colorado that month for a family reunion, the first time all of us minus my girls will have been together in twenty-plus years. My family isn't very big; i've got two parents, two kids, one brother, one aunt, one uncle, and two cousins. That's it. So to have eight of the ten of us together is kind of a whoop-de-do. And i'll have a piece in a show at the Asterisk for the July ArtWalk (and probably be set up outside Edison's as well).

Big Love will close at the end of August, and then it will be time to start gearing up for Recycled Rainbow. i'm still planning to run a workshop tent - a Chatauqua - for that, which will mean re-building my pavilion but hey. What's a little thing like that in the larger scale of things? (btw, if you are interested in presenting something - anything - contact me). That's in September, and i'll have another piece in a show at Doubting Thomas that month too. Its only conceptual right now, but it involved ladie's undergarments, so you might want to remember that one.

i probably will have another blog up before i'm through all that, but if you wonder why you aren't hearing from me online - get out from behind your computer and take a look around town. i'm the one doing all those things i wanted to when i was younger but never could "because..". Maybe its time you were too - ?

garden's in. Lots of good porch parties this weekend. Working on CRR show. Still no internet. Guess that's my update 4 now!

really Did Not Need Trouble tonite. Even if its making a corvid laugh - i *will* kick your ass when i catch it. That's a promise, my friend.

Un Reve Sans Consequence

In my mind, a small plane of suspect registry has just landed in Bulgaria. The sole passenger, a tall, taciturn, jet-lagged fellow whose blocky black glasses inexplicably have one lens fogged up exits, a rucksack of clothes on his back, a guitar case in one hand, and a coverless copy of Rossignol's curiously titled tome "Origins of a World War" tucked in his pocket. With a nod to the pilot, he heads off, on foot, away from any sign of civilization. At a barely discernable crossroad miles from the airport, he meets a man whose name consists mostly of consonants and exchanges a few grunts and a complicated series of hand signs; after which he is led to a half-collapsed thatch roof shed invisible from the roadway. There he exchanges a handful of grimy bills and a carton of U.S. smokes for a dilapidated but serviceable motorcycle and a hand-drawn map. And before the dawn breaks, he is on his way..

Some of you know, or have heard, that my dear friend brin - Crow - passed out of this world the other night. He was one of the first two friends i made when i joined the theater, re-introduced me to the experimental music scene, turned me on to the Dresden Dolls, Madame P, Electric Six and Boris, Plastic Crimewave and Celebration. He taught me sound design and basic lessons in automotive mechanics. He brought the iMac i'm posting from back to life after it conked out the third day i owned it and to this day he - and his step-daughter Iris - have user profiles i see every time i log in. He could keep rhythm on a bass drum and tap a snare with the head of the guitar he was playing at the same time. He wore bowler hats with goggles before steampunk was big, tailored jackets and t-shirts over tight bellbottoms, while living in a trailer at the end of an abandoned rail line. Drove a 65 Rambler wagon, or maybe an 84 AMC Eagle on jacked-up wheels, to eat breakfast at the Steel Trolley Diner. He called himself a biker and rode a Honda 750 named Annabelle. He called his band, and sometimes himself, madbunny, and made music that could range from incomprehensible noise (on rollerskates) to gentle dreamy ragas. He understood the dichotomy between growing up in a backwards ohio town and living amongst the arts intelligentsia of a city, and could walk in both those worlds.

Right now i can't fathom that he won't set foot in either one again, not in this form. Farewell, crowboy. i hope the skies are clearer where you're flying now, the guitars give exactly the sound you want and never break a string, and all the classic cars only need worked on when you feel like it.

Squishiando 2009 pt 1

Squishiando! That, for those who weren't there, is the Secret Code Word for Spoutwood Farm's 2009 Fairie Festival. This event is very near and dear to my heart, in ways i can't begin to express. i realized a bit belatedly that this was my tenth year attending - my ninth as either vendor or performer or both, but ten overall. Wow. And after ten years, i've made some really good friends there, most of whom i get to see only once a year - but they're heart family nonetheless.

Perhaps its because it takes place at Beltane, or May Day, but the Fairie Fest is - something truly magickal. i've got several perspectives on this that are all warring in my head to come out. There's thoughts on theater and ritual; and the fact that this is both literally and metaphorically an annual pilgrammage for me. Perhaps i should face east and pray to Spoutwood? Oh dear, i'm sure that's blasphemy to some. But in my life, it serves a similar function.

One of the things that came home to me this year, is that every year, getting there presents some sort of challenge. Last year might have been one of the fewest - maybe i was sweating whether i'd have a new (to me) car in time; i bought Severin Bloo, my cruiser, just days before i left. Sure couldn't have gotten there and back in Elphie the Taurus. i think the year before worrying if Elphie could manage the trip was issue enough. Car troubles, money woes, health issues - there always seems to be something looming in the weeks before that seem they might prevent me from getting there - but they never do.

This year i arrived late Thurs. evening. Pulled in & up the camping hill, found a spot that turned out to be right next to vendor friends who come out from Indiana for the event. Chatted with them a bit and then ran off to catch the end of the pre-fair bonfire up on Frodo's Hill. Found Greenman Rob, the fest paterfamilias, first; then my pal Cynthia, who i'd met my very first time there in 2000. Walked back to her camp, two down from Beth & Zeeb, the Indiana people. Hung out a bit more then decided i'd better make camp before it got much later.

It was dark, and midnightish, and i, silly faerie that i am, have not owned a functioning flashlight in years. Who cares? i didn't even know for sure which tent i had til i unfolded it (i have two, both blue & grey. But one's much smaller than the other). So i fumbled about in the darkness. The hippie kids partying next to me asked if i needed help.. i suppose it might've looked like i did, but i actually didn't mind being a little out of it and setting up blind. i suppose that could have been frustrating, but why let it? i was at Spoutwood, yay! Tents aren't all THAT challenging, anyway, so i had my nomad home together soon enough.

Pilgrammage and ritual.. the tent is always set up the same. i've owned and lost and broken and misplaced so many camping supplies over the years, yet i manage to get my 'hobbit hole' together: tent tucked under the trees, canopy over top descending to the ground in front, covering a small (i.e., not high enuf to stand in) kitchen. i was Home, and soon enough snuggled warm and dry in bed. Note 'warm' and 'dry'. This will be important later!

Woke Friday early - very early, as it turned out. i got up, made some food, and began assembling my vendor cart. This was one of those, oh sh*t, will i get this together in time? things that came together despite everything just days before - days? It is to laugh! i got it to ok, this will work stage Weds night, mere hours before i left. Didn't turn out like the picture in my head, but what else is new - i couldn't get a power saw to cut the wood to save my life, so hacked the luan literally by hand - hacksaw, handsaw, even used the drywall knife a time or two. Not elegant, but it held up transporting my stuff down the camping hill which was my biggest concern.

i took the same site i had last year. Technically, i'm a strolling vendor; but its neither easy nor necessary to 'stroll' the wagon around so i just park next to Cynthia's booth. Which, go figure, is on a spot they call Mermaid Island. i know, right? (if you *don't* know, i realized being a Pisces means i get to be a mermaid - ever since embracing that identity, mermaids have become Prominent in my life). Got everything set up and ready to go and whee! The heavens opened and down came the rain. Boo. It cleared for a while Fri. afternoon - a good drum circle can do that - but rained again later. Which meant 1) didn't do diddly for sales; 2) i got Wet. Because of course i was silly enuf to just sit by my cart for the most part, huddled into my cloak. Which is pretty good at withstanding moderate drizzle, but after two moderate drizzles, i was decidedly dampish. And having traded my singing voice to walk on land, i no longer appreciate such things the way a mermaid should ;-p

Friday night some of the folks there were holding an Alchemical Fire circle, which is something i've wanted to attend for a while. However, having gotten back up to camp - Spoutwood is nestled between two hills, and camping is on the higher of those - and gotten out of my tutu (i wore my Freakshow costume again, because i could!), i got as far as Camp Hon, and that was that. OK, maybe it technically isn't Camp Hon. i'm not sure, that's just how i think of my friends Kazoo & Ding0's camp. Friday night the Gypsy Nomads were also playing in town, and i'd considered driving in to see them. However, having gotten back up to camp - yeah. Grilled cheese, some awesome fish stew, and a couple bottles of wine later, i suddenly realized it was past midnight and i wasn't going anywhere.

Except back to Cynthia's camp, where folks were sitting round by candlelight doing what gypsy witches do by candlelight. That is, smoke, drink, talk, and play music. Billy Bardo had an i dont quite know what - balalaika, perchance? and i got emboldened to bring out the squeezebox. We jammed for a time, sat and smoked and talked a while longer; but eventually the lure of bed was too much to pass up. And so ended the first night of festival. Yeah, this is going to be a long post. Or maybe not - open mic at the Duck is calling me, so perhaps i'll break this off now and type up the rest as separate entries. Sure. Why not. More soonest then, my faerie fae!

ping: Off to the Fairie Festival!

ok tweeps. car is packed, HOPE i've got all, & make it safely! Off to the Fairie Fest, see u next week! Merry Beltane!

Reality: i think i now Officially Can't Handle It.

It was an April morning when they told us..

Ah spring. i am a bad goth, i much prefer spring, everything coming back to life and blooming over autumn. i have a lot of good memories associated with Aprils past; forsythia blossoms feel like Hope, to me. Hope for the future.

my future is far from assured.. there's a lot about it that's downright scary. In many ways i feel i'm picking up where i left off thirty years ago - but i'm thirty years older now, and the future has a limit on it i couldn't see before. i could bring myself down following this train of thought. i've been strongly attracted to the Fool card from the Tarot in recent years (since this newest period of my life commenced) - see a cliff? Jump off - and i have this absurd belief that just as long as i don't look down i won't fall; the clouds will rise up beneath my feet and bear me safely to the other side.

and i'm not dead, yet. Maybe i'll get to where i'm going and maybe i won't.. no, scratch that. i'll get there - it may not be where i THINK it will be, but i'll arrive. And i am on my way.

i'm a witch and a pagan, tho not a 'practicing' one in the sense most people think. i seldom manage to circle w/anyone, rarely do spells, and i certainly don't *look* like [insert neopagan stereotype here]. But i Feel the moon and the seasons in my blood. i Feel energie flows. i Feel spring when it rises, the currents of Possibility opening out before me.

April has been a month of changes in my life - perhaps i mean milestones. The watershed event that propelled me into the life i lead now occurred in April. i've been married (twice) in April - maybe i shouldn't count those, eh? ;-} In April, Lakeview Cemetery is perhaps the most beautiful place in the city. i am overdue to spend some hours wandering there; i used to spend my afternoons strolling the quiet grassy avenues. Many dreams and goals were shaped in that green and stony park - i miss it. Daffodil Hill will be covered in a sea of yellow and the cherry trees and dogwoods seem to uphold the life everlasting those Victorian architects subscribed to. Of course i interpret the concept differently.

It is spring and everything is new and awakening. i have new projects on the horizon and fresh approaches to old ones. i am filled with hope and ideas and perhaps even the energies to carry some out. i have walked a spiral round and round and round again, but each time i tread the 'same' path i am a loop farther on. The path i walk is insistent beneath my feet. It will lead me on whether i will it or no. On previous turns i have resisted and hesitated; no more. My foot is set firmly now and there is no choice but to go forward. Whether it will take me where i hope i cannot know, only that everything is just and right.

Today was a day filled with such promise. The sun shone, the air was warm. i spent a couple hours breaking up Japanese knotweed at the back of a vacant lot, helping prepare the land for gardens to come. The plot is a little distance but near enuf i can ride my bike, & plan to, as it warms. One of the elements of this path is community work and here is a route to that. There is more to be done, always more; but it felt good to be Involved again - not to mention being outdoors, in service to Mother Earth. The Fifth Sacred paradigm will manifest.

This is a vision i've held for a while, and see beginning to take more solid form. Things that have seemed out in the wouldn't-it-be-cool-if sphere are finding a way to manifest. i know that i Know how to make them happen - some? all? But to do so means my energies *must* go there and not be diluted, channelled into mundane realities. Therefore i must trust thee yoniverse to take care of me while i do the work that is laid out before me. We are still negotiating how this might happen - but i've a roof over my head and food (if meager) in the cupboards. i will survive, and with the spring will come a flowering of all that has been sown.

testing ping.fm as i get ready to put on my wings and fly off to the Fairie Festival!

no sweeping exits

i am, have always been someone who needs a certain amount of solitude. Even sitting here, alone in an empty apartment, i feel the world encroaching too much; too many demands on my time. Of course i could leave the computer off. There are those i want to connect with; just now more than ever i find i must keep a close watch on the gate.

Which is ironic since i've chosen to live my life as something of a public figure. Or maybe not ironic at all. i swim in a few, overlapping, moderately small ponds. Small enough i appear a medium-size fish (well mermaid actually but we needn't get into that now). A lot of people 'know' me, but its somewhat superficially. Which is all right.. i am an ongoing real-time performance art piece of several decades duration, at this point. But the piece is not performed 24/7; there are times when i must be 'offstage'. Sometimes more than others.

Yes, i suppose i should 'write a book'. Kent State shootings? check. 70s intro to glam/punk? check, and already kinda written to boot. 80s life as underground punkrawk mamacita? BTDT, some of its written, some of *that* i might even share.
90s - um, what was the 90s. Readjustment period? yeah, i donno about that part. i mean i guess i did cool stuff then too, just not as cool as having Henry Rollins stay over & junk. 1st half of 1st decade of 21st century: yeah, we're probably going to edit this part out.

True, those events Shaped me and made me stronger (or is that just older) by virtue of not killing me. They also substantially damaged me in ways i dont know that i'll ever fully recover from. Sure, they're part of being the Fabulous Sascha Peppercorn, but.. well look. This is what goes in the, only some people get shown this back room in my head section, k?

i don't know what i'm trying to say here - which is probably not the best way to approach writing anything, little say a book. i DO need to have people around me who Know, and can be there when the world gets crumbly around the edges. Sometimes i need not to be Sascha, or sade, or freaking Pagoda Panic thankyouverymuch. Sometimes i don't even want to be Mandy Slade but central casting hasn't let me take off the mandy mermaid costume lately.

i think what i'm trying to sort out is, when i need to bow out and become less visible for a time, do i really owe anyone an explanation - ?! No, technically of course i don't. But folks who are used to me being the fairytale village witch who smells of gingerbread and amber don't always Understand.

Yeah. Such a bitch being Me, huh?

best.birthday.EVAR.

Siriusly. The last time i had this much fun on my berfday? Maybe when Alien Sex Fiend played the Lakefront in 1985?! (or was it 84?) Today was full of cookies topped w/awesomesauce and a big fat WIN on top. And its all cuz i live in a wonderful, beautiful, *supportive* arts community.

First, the day: i can literally count on one hand the number of birthdays i've had when the weather wasn't shite. Its rare enuf to be over 50 out, but to be 70 AND sunny?? This just Does Not Happen in Cleveland in March. But it did today, so i made it my inaugural bike ride of the season. Decided on a whim to put my squeezebox on my back and bike downtown for the parade.. which could have been trouble with a capital 'T', but it actually worked out. And that's despite the fact that as i got to the Detroit-Superior bridge (which spans the river dividing east from west) my bike chain got jammed between gears. So what?

i walked my bike over the bridge and down to the new Phoenix Coffee on W. 9th. They're my Twitter friends, had to check them out, lol. (Sweet little place; might be worth some daytime rides for wi-fi'n'chai this spring). Tried texting my pal who is also my birthday twin.. well, we did text; just never connected. Downtown was pagan revelry.. everybody's Irish in Cleveland on St. Padrec's, but today everyone was *heathen* Irish. No woad that i saw, but wtf. Another pal called it Green Halloween and i think she's right. Imagine the flipside of Halloween; instead of preparing for winter, this is opening up to spring. Costumes EVERYWHERE.. of course most of them were drunk suburban White People, but hey. Everyone was smiling, maybe too drunk but in early afternoon almost all still happy.

i walked east to go south; Superior to E.12th to E.9th to Euclid to E.4th. Stopped on E.4th a while to break out the squeezebox. i could have busked but i'm still too shy at it so just played quietly in open spots - well as quiet as an accordion gets. There was a girl who played a fullsize in front of Erie St. Coffee; she & i jammed a couple tunes. Then a fellow came up who knew her.. i'm looking at him, thinking he looks familiar - and omg its a guy i've known thru open mic scenes first, then the vortex a couple years ago when everything got - strange. He dropped out of sight and i haven't seen or spoken to him since, but there he was, looking good and SO good to see him!

From there i went on to Public Square. Met my best pal, who works in the old Higbee bldg, scene of visiting Santa in the Christmas Story movie. We cut thru Tower City, came out back near W.9th. People asking me to play again, so i did. She had to go back to work and i headed home, thinking i'd have to walk the bike. i was able to coast once past the hump in the bridge, then discovered i could pedal half a cycle forward, backpedal, another half a cycle.. was slow going but i made it home that way. W/the squeezebox in a backpack and my tophat on my head. Once home i set the bicycle upside down out back and banged at it til i got the chain free. i'll need to put new gears on it - anybody know anything about the Ohio City Bike Co-op? i think i need their help!

At home for a minute then.. did some cleaning and got changed out of indie bike clothes. i Luv bike culture.. when i was headed down, i got passed by three vegan bike messenger kidz, one of whom had a trailer attached: in which an older hippie gent was riding, ponytail and fancy hat and all. He waved and smiled and i waved and smiled back. When you're out on a bike, you make personal contact w/others who bike, and its not like passing people walking. Bike people smile and wave and say hey, coz we Recognize other people who are Choosing this way of transport over fossil fuels.

Got myself some Chinese carryout on the way to rehearsal, coz i <3 it and i knew they weren't doing any business (no corned beef, lol). Ate out on the porch at the theater in beautiful weather. Had a decent run-thru of second act of Mineola Twins, and a nice chat w/Clyde, our director/paterfamilias after. One more quick change later - i needed boots, not ballet flats once it was dark - and i was off to open mic.

i'm having my "official" party Friday, but it'll have a hard time topping tonight, coz this was a gather of my heart family, and SO many of them(you?) came out. Shawn, our longtime open mic MC, gave me a painting he'd done, w/special sekrit writing on the back. All sorts of folks bought me drinks, played me songs, danced in a ring etc.. but perhaps the best was Chrissie, Chrissy & Cynthia, who brought a bag full of home-made paper plate masks and tinsel streamers to hand out to the crowd.. AND put together a choreographed routine to Nine Inch Nails (and maybe Sublime? i don't know), which they performed in my honor. *snif*.

This was so so perfect i can't begin to tell you. i don't even know what was best.. watching these girls get up, put on silly sparkly lacy costumes and do a routine they put together AND REHEARSED.. or seeing everyone at open mic sporting masks w/flowers and leaves and tinsel streamers - ?! =:o Fairie Fest peeps&tweeps know the sort of energie i'm talkin'bout. Everyone shedding their winter blahs, out in finery, having fun, spontaneously dressed up. Yes, that was it! It was an authentic Temporary Autonomous Zone, the sort of things that happen in my Dreams. But here, now, in the waking world.

It filtered down as the evening wore on, but my Particular Friend whose band i work with played a solo version of my favorite of their songs (Blue Absynthe)for me, and then wound up with a rousing version of 'Shambones and Monkeyjaws', which he used to play with his old band, Screwtractor. Everyone was stomping or clapping or drumming on the tables along with the rhythm at the end, all of us together. And then! The original open mic MC from years ago played me 'Gary Floyd' by the Butthole Surfers, and to cap the night, our current MC played my favoritest Kimya Dawson song whose name i can't remember without looking it up.. um.. 'Loose Lips', that's it. i know about half the lyrics, so he had me come up and sing it along with him.

*whew*.

i'm sure i've forgotten half of what went on, tho i WAS good and did not get dr00nk (tho i easily could have!) It *stayed* nice out, even more impressive, tho the sky is still clear. i gave one more lovely crafty friend a ride home and came home dancing with rainbows in my head. But they will be on my wall soon enuf, so i stop now.. just want to say THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who came out tonite, because you made this a Fo'Real Milestone Birthday for me. And if you missed it and are in Clevo and are free Fri. night, come on down to Pat's in the Flats and with any luck we'll do it all over again. Only different. i LOVE you my vortex Rainbow family of laughing light, and i don't even care if i sound like an old hippie because i AM! Ha!!! *smooch*

the same deep water as me

Damn. Do you know how close i came to starting this entry, 'It's happened again' - ?? It's happened again all over again. Only this time "it" isn't some website offending me with its drab-n-creary color scheme. No, this time "it" is far worse. That Question. You know, the one no girl ever wants to be asked.

"Have you ever thought of writing a book?"

Waauugghh. Please, ask me my age - i'm happy to tell you i'm days shy of fifty. And still rockin', dammit, even if i am a bit wheezy at the moment - hurr! Ask me about adventures with much younger men - there aren't any, not because the opportunity isn't there, but because i have not yet fully embraced my inner Maude, thereby allowing me to welcome in any potential Harolds. But write a book? Eek.

Its not that the words don't dribble from my fingers with a rather annoying regularity :::wipes surreptitiously on the tablecloth::: It's not even that i haven't already DONE this. Well - ok, 'Goddess of the Crucifixion' isn't ~my~ book precisely, but i put so damn much work into the thing i can claim about a third of it. And no you've never heard of it because it's languishing in a hard-drive of holding until some future day when i feel i might be ready to try and Do Something With It. (for late arrivals: GotC is my ex-husband's masterwork. It's fantasy, albeit Tolkien as retold by Lovecraft and Anne Roquelaure, in which the main characters undergo several incarnations. Ate the winter of 2002-3. Husband drama ensured i've sat on it ever since). Then there's Digital Aeon, which once in a while will tell itself to me in bits and pieces, but has been doing so for about fifteen years, now, and hasn't deigned to let me know how all the Point A stuff might eventually connect to Point B.

Of course, when the question arises, people don't usually have fiction in mind. They mean Damn, girl, with the life you've lived? Why don't you write a book?! It is just this very minute occurring to me that part of my reluctance might be that to stop and write about it tacitly acknowledges that i'm no longer actively *living* it. Which i still very much am, thanks just the same, so not ready to pen any memoirs just yet.

On another hand - i'm down with Kali, there will be several hands - what would be the point? Sure, i've had Adventures. Plan to keep on havin' 'em for a while yet, if perhaps not at the level i usedta could. But i'm hardly alone in that. i might be a medium-size fish, but this isn't *that* big a pond.. honestly, i've met folks who've done/been/seen more things than me. Sure, none of 'em have quite had my particular viewpoint, but - eh. It just doesn't seem relevant much beyond my social circle, yanno?

But yet again again, perhaps that's what this blog is for. i'm still casting about with this one, i'm sure you couldn't tell ha ha. This isn't my personal journal that i happen to share with several dozen of closest intimate friends many of whom i've not even met out here in meatspace. This isn't a column of reviews; i considered that, but i don't go to a lot of "things" anymore. Not like the late 80s/early 90s when i was seeing/meeting/feeding some great underground band every other week (insert story of Steve Albini and the highchair here - i could, yet its really not all that interesting. Beyond the fact that Steve Albini was over at my house, w00).

i know what it is i Do out in the world.. not just the promobitch networking stuff or the stagecrew-ing or being a crafter or any of that. Actually it IS networking, but on a different level. i am, in part, a synthesist - please see previous blog for references to Stand On Zanzibar. But i don't just abstract patterns from the data i collect; i make connections BASED on that data. Whoa. Hm. Not sure i've ever formulated that into words before.

So it would make sense to me to do that thru the blog somehow, but how? Oh hai Person A in Town 2; meet Person B in Town 5, you're both into X. Would that become, "met Person A for wi-fi'n'chai today, showed them Person B's website, promised to tweet about their project". Hrm? i suppose it could, but that seems so - soulless. Yet nor do i wish to fall into the "based on my past lives as an Atlantean shaman/princess/tamer of sea-unicorns, i realize that my True Path is to help beclouded souls out of their occlusion from the Ascended Way" - even though - o dear, i cannot say it - but i must - even though that one's closer to the truth.

This is why Twitter is my new favorite site TLA4Eva. Because no matter what is flitting thru my branez, i have to fit it into 140 characters or forever hold my peace. This post brought to you by #UNFollowFriday, the letter kratkoye and the numeral pi.

How come some people | They don't like nothing at all?

Its happened again. A popular, maybe even potentially useful service (in this case Google Reader) has ensured i won't be using it by providing me with an absolutely butt-ugly page interface and no way to change it *sigh*. Not that i'm Teh Expert when it comes to page design, and no snickering behind your hands, now. i'm using the only template i've gotten to WORK on this blog - found others i liked better, but Blogger didn't, and i don't know enuf CSS or whatever templates are in to tweak til it does. i still don't grasp why programs like Dreamweaver think you need to apply font coding separately to each and every paragraph, for instance, instead of once to the entire page which still seems to work just fine. And is why your old granny is writing this entry in TextEdit, not the Blogger editor - well, one reason.

The other being where i started, and that's the plague of horrendous boiler-plate social media sites who think nothing could be more appealing than some sort of greyish-blue header on a blank white page - when in fact the word they want is 'appalling', not appealing. Yech blech poison doglips. One of many reasons i'd drop Facebook like a Bush administration policy decision if all the same people were active on myspace. i hated myspz too, until they got smart enuf to offer custom templates for their user interface pages, not just public profiles. Now you can judge someone's net savvy by whether they've a customized profile, much as you can by whether their Twitter icon looks like this: o_O Facebook's rubberstamp generic profile deprives you of that information.

Yahoo is another site that has allowed color customization for years. Think its a coincidence i've been a loyal yahoo user for years? Their my.yahoo.com page has all sorts of great templates available (tho you have to be logged in and choose one to see it). Yahoo is my start page of choice precisely *because* its in warm, inviting colors, i can pretty much drag things where i want them on the page and (within limits, which are dwindling) decide what the elements on my page will be.

Google Reader, on the other hand, is barren and ugly. i didn't bookmark it. i won't be using it or going back to it. If it has anything to offer me i can't find other places - like, say, right in the sidebar of this blog - their institutionalized interface made certain i wouldn't stick around long enough to find it. Hell, i paid such scant heed i can't even link to it; i have no idea what the URL is and can't be bothered to find out.

Ditto FriendFeed, which at least has the right idea - consolidate all my social media sites into one reader - but fails to implement it in a workable way. Their biggest offense isn't the uglyblues, because not only is their idea good enough to make that almost worth putting up with, but a prototype version exists that isn't ~ideal~ but isn't cookiecutter either. No, the problem with FriendFeed is it only feeds me *other people on FriendFeed* - if i can't see ALL my Twitter streams, Facebook updates, LJ friends list etc., then there's just no point. i'm going to wind up going to the original sites for the complete feed, so why bother with yours for a glimpse of it?

Lest you think i am nothing but a cranky old woodnymph, however, let me tell you about the site that made GoogleReader even more of an eyesore by comparison tonight: Filttr. OK the name is clunky, but whatever. Its WARM and INVITING and FUNCTIONAL too! It went immediately into my bookmarks, and just may replace Twitter itself as the place i keep up with tweets. Twitter probably earned a high place in my estimation by allowing me to customize it from the get-go (currently tinkering with a background there, but any place that allows me to make my own i <3). Filttr, tho, autorefreshes and threads topics - even if i can't have 'my' background, its usefulness combined with a better colorscheme means its a tool i'll be coming back to. (Should you care, i haven't had the chance to try TweetDeck or similar programs - AdobeAir doesn't want to install on my poor old gumdrop, without which they won't work. i've got Chirp as a widget if i need browser-free updates or updating - but i seldom do).

Oh look. A blog, i has it. Perhaps now i can shift my butt and get a shower too. Coz Sid - i don't feel so good today..

It's supposed to be automatic but actually you have to press the button.

Soo, as often happens, this is not the post i intended to write. i may get back to that one - it'll keep. Well, this one would keep too, but it jumped into my brain last night and almost kept me from sleeping, so to prevent any recurrence of THAT, this one's getting written. In which i shall discuss Web 2.0 Considered as a Helix of Semi-Precious Stones, or perhaps why Twitter is the real-life equivalent of Scanalyzer. (since i won't be referencing the Delaney story again, you might want to read about it over there. The two are closely linked in my head, however).

Depending on your inherent Sci-Fi Geek Quotient, you're either saying Yes, Do Go On, or, WTF wufkitn, you've lost me again. For the latter group: Scanalyzer is a concept employed by John Brunner in one of my favorite SF books, "Stand On Zanzibar". Which i shall be re-reading starting an hour or three ago, its been too long. Brunner refers to SoZ as a 'non-novel', composed using "Spicers Plus Fabric Bond and Commercial Bank interleaved with Serillo carbons in a Smith Corona electric typewriter fitted with a Kolok black-record ribbon." i quote that to give you an idea of the quantum leaps we've made since he wrote it - the book was published in 1968, but is set 42 years (!) in the (then) future.

Scanalyzer is something like a news program (i'm drawing from memory, and haven't read it in a few years), that is customizable to the viewer using a 'homimage' attachment so that Mr. and Mrs. Everywhere ("or Mr. and Miss, or Miss and Miss, or Mister and Mister, take your pick hah hah!") appear on the screen bearing the viewer's own face. "The INdepth, INdependent, INmediate, INterface between you and your world!" Starting to see why i pulled this off the shelf just now?

We may not yet be to the point where you can see yourself and your significant other sitting prominently in the audience at the Oscars, for instance; but are we really that far behind? We've still got almost two years to catch up to Brunner's projected future, anyway. Instead, we can has INstant updates and commentary, which we can participate directly in. 'Way to ruin a song #idol'. Should someone decide my snide remarks are Worthy and re-tweet me, i could potentially make that observation to an eighth of a million people, according to Twitalyzer.. whose name is starting to sound eerily familiar.

Ah social media, how i love to hate thee. Only a few short months ago, your dear old granny wufkitn hadn't even heard the term 'social media'; now i'm immersed in studying and participating in it on a daily basis. And i've made some interesting discoveries here in twenty-oh-nine.

For one, despite the notion of Web 2.0 making us all participants, i'm finding that i spend MUCH less time contributing to 'net life, and much more consuming it. Perhaps i'm simply out of step with the curve on this one, i don't know. Ten-plus years ago, i spent nearly every evening online, answering emails and participating in (on?) e-lists. A year or so before that and newsgroups were my favored activity; a few years later and i became active on LiveJournal, then MySpace. Now its Facebook and Twitter.

i really liked Twitter once i discovered LoudTwitter, as i could make brief notes as the day went along and then have them gathered and posted to my journal. w00, instant blog update! But after a few months, i started seeing friends posts asking if there was a way to block people's Twitter feeds from their friends list, observing it will be a sad day when all that's left of LJ are feeds - one friend mournfully noted that all they see of me now are scraps, like gnawing shreds of meat off a chicken bone. Facebook's status updates aren't much better - true, they allow threaded comments, a semblance of the discussions that used to occur on the old lists. But the nature of the beast means you'll never get the sort of in-depth conversations going that we had back in my day, when we had to connect using a 9600baud modem on dial-up and we LIKED it, by gum!

That sounds horrifically antique, now, though not so much as the idea that when i worked the First College computer lab, our *hot* Mac had a whopping 1mb HD and could run System ~6~. And a version of Photoshop that fit on a single floppy disk. Yes, i am a geezer, why do you ask? Heh. Seriously, tho, things are moving so fast now that i feel like the Twitter i'd gotten to know and love last month is already an outdated concept. Which i didn't really know, because i'm old and slow to grasp such things, until i started reading blogs and websites that told me just how behind i am.

Imagine - four weeks ago, i thought Twitter was for keeping up with my friends and some interesting strangers. How quaint! i had no idea that i was 'supposed' to be re-tweeting, and using #hashtags, and increasing my *influence*. According to one of these websites - i've already lost track of which - the average power-tweeter has something like 550 friends. Your old granny only follows about a quarter of that. And while i've been grumbly about the fact that my cheapie minute phone doesn't participate in SMS services (so no updates when i'm offline), i'm starting to be grateful i CAN'T get Twitter updates sent to my phone. Somehow, i'm 'supposed' to read updates from over 500 people whose posting velocity oustrips my own, check out their links, participate in conversations via @replies and DMs, find more friends, attract more followers and.. um, i forget what else. Cause i'm old. Oh yeah - write a blog.

But since i'm not a "pro-blogger", larding my posts with cleverly 'shopped photo montages of the life i find time to lead in _between_ all these updates, i do at times commit the heresy of getting off the computer. To do horribly old-fashioned things like read books, or meet real people, in real time, in real places. However, i'm starting to wonder if the fabulous world of 'Twenty-TEN come AGAIN!' really *is* where we're headed. Why ever move my arse from this chair, when i can just stream video chat with people around the world, eager to share their observations on the program we're all tuned in to, of course, because that's what good little lemmings do, right? Look, there i am, front row center! Wow! i guess its just like being there.. assuming there IS a there, There.. Why actually bother going out and living life, when you can stay at home and tweet about your virtual one?

#LoveHateDreamsLifeWorkPlayFriendshipSex. Why should i bother to explain myself when you can google it? (Relax, David. Open your eyes.)

knew it was a chance i had to take

Saturday then. i believe that Saturday day i did what is traditionally known as fuck-all. Friday having been quite the night and all that. i, um, i - oh, i made Mock Chicken Noodle Soup! Can't think now what inspired me but i realized i had everything i needed. This is a vegan variation on chicken noodle that i made up years ago to substitute for the poultry-based while still giving you the basic warm soothing broth when you're sick effect. Its since become one of my favorites.. much like real chicken noodle there's something nicely grounding and homey about it.

Saturday Morticia's Chair was playing at the Beachland Ballroom, for the first time in so long (and ever with this line-up) we were calling it a debut. i often wear my 'pirate'-y vest&blouse-in-one for their shows, but it really doesn't fit properly anymore, not to mention the sleeve parts are a bit worse for wear. Opted instead for an old white poufy-sleeve blouse that ties at the midriff, my black pleather 'biker' vest w/crow bling on the shoulder, striped denim-blue leggings w/an overskirt of black velour yoke and sheer/sparkly black flounce. And the top hat i've been rocking lately, of course. [Belated Warning: i like clothes. i like to play dress-up. i write about playing dress-up. Sometimes i even get off my duff and make clothes. Expect regular reports on my ridiculous streetwear. That is all].

Managed to get myself fed, showered, dressed, primped, and to the practice space by about six. Decided we only needed two cars for four people and gear, so i stowed my craft bag and purple tablecloth in the back of Dax the truck and we were off to the Beachland. Made load-in just as the event was getting underway. This was a benefit for a musician who'd played with various Clevo luminaries like The Choir and The Raspberries, but whose longest-running band (i believe) was The Secret. In their last incarnation, The Secret had the same drummer that Morticia's Chair has now, which is how they got on the bill - most of the rest of the night was classic rock covers, with a LOT of Beatles.

We really weren't sure what to expect in terms of turn-out, but it was much better than we were afraid it would be (ticket prices seemed steep, to us). Definitely an older crowd, and i say that as a half-century dowager - tho granted i seldom get pegged as old as i am. i felt a bit shiney coming out to the merch tables in the front hall.. we've got an almost pro merch set-up now, a case that has all the CDs, promo cards, a light, stickers, etc. The one thing i DIDN'T have, and really should know better by now, is a cash box. Gotta gotta gotta remember to bring mine next time!

i spent most of the rest of the night sitting in that hallway, ho hum. Had a pal working the back bar, so i snuck off to chat with him once or twice, but mostly i sat behind the table or stood and watched the bands thru the ballroom doors. Most of the folks i knew in the building were at the show next door; got to see a few faces when i kipped out front for a smoke. i had thought i'd planned for being stuck up there all night, and brought my craft bag; alas, this is the first craft bag outing in many a moon so i didn't have quite what i needed to really make use of the time.

i'll be vending for the 9th year at Spoutwood Farm's Fairie Festival at the beginning of May, so its really time i started building up my stock again. My main item are those little floral headwreaths you see girls wearing at Renn Faires. The white 'Bride' ones i make sell like crazy, with the black 'Sorceress' coming a close second. Last year i added brown ones w/green leaves & no flowers for the boys and those did all right too. i got a lot of wreath blanks twisted up, but didn't have the right box of flowers with me to do the full wreath. Alas, as i could have made some real progress but twas not to be.

The band sounded good, though, nice and tight, and the audience seemed to like them. The MC gave them a ~really~ nice intro.. i didn't realize they'd been invited to play after she saw them at the private party out in Kirtland we did at the end of last summer (the one where i ran into my ex-s ex-, who still thinks she has to be catty to me fifteen years later - get over it chica, he dumped you, effing deal *thibbit*). We also got to talk to the booking guy there and are looking at putting a show together to tie into the player on the Positively Cleveland page - which you can check out here. Our homegrrls Hot Cha Cha are on there too!

Had another lesson on the new lighting system for the band at the end of the night. i've been a lightboard operator for the Liminis Theater for about four years now, but i've never done any lighting *design*; i just hit the cues. This is a whole order or three of complexity above what i do at the theater. i still only barely know a gobo from a par can, little say what to do with all those swirly spinny any color you like so long as its RGB things at our disposal now. And the big sooper-sekrit Center for Rock Research show coming up in June is going to require a LOT of lighting. Not to mention i intend to have a lot to do with making the event a success - it has the potential to be one of those Man, You Shoulda Been There moments - or a debacle. Aiming for the former, obviously.

Nightcap at Eds and some pleasant and productive conversation out front afterwards. i've got several band projects to follow up on between now and practice tomorrow night, not to mention, you know, *life*. So let's see if i can wrap this without requiring yet a third entry.

Tonight was the Recycled Rainbow Ladies Bellydancing Guild meetup - which actually isn't so formally named, tho perhaps it should be! RR isn't an official regional burn, but it plays one on TV - i.e., if you know what regional burns are, you'll have at least some clue what goes on there. So a handful of women associated with the fest got together at a house out in SW Bumfuck to try out a few moves. Something less than a formal class but more than a dance jam. i miss taking real classes.. i can shimmy and do some basic moves, but i've forgotten SO much. i really ought to get into a regular class again - coz, you know, i've got SO much spare time on my hands. Still, there was some agreement that a Lincoln Park drum circle would be not only desirable but potentially do-able this summer, and that's something i've been trying to get off the ground for a couple years now so its all good.

Aanndd that's the movie, folks. i'm out for now. Not sure if i've anything to report on during the week but i'll be back, you can put your pretty little head at ease on that account..

Rats and Bats and Tastes Like Chicken for Candy

Well. So much for 'soonest'. Its taken so long (read: i got too busy) that i decided to make this a separate blog, as the first was long enough. In fact i'll probably put up at least two tonight, to break the weekend into semi-manageable chunks. Not how i ~lived~ it of course. But then we can't all be the Fabulous Sascha Peppercorn. In fact, none of you can, because i already am. Heh.

i believe our intrepid heroine was last seen entering Duck Island Friday night. i love the Duck; its grimy and yet artsy, nothing works properly, and some of the crowd really DO lead sordid lives. Plus its not in an obvious location, almost in Tremont but not quite, so that you don't often have to worry about the plague of touristas that regularly infects some place like Edison's.

Friday was the one bartender's last night, so they were having a Sordid Lives party as her going-away. i've only seen the movie once, under rather dubious circumstances involving a drunken pilot and a pan of lasagna (don't ask). Friends of mine, however, are BIG S.L. fans, so i can recite "Why, Dr. Eve, you're not wearing any panties!" with the best of them. And there *was* tuna noodle casserole. Fried chicken. And apple pie. This was a good thing, because while i probably did eat before i'd left for the play, that would've been hours before and i was perhaps just a weeee bit woozy by then.

Ah, i nearly forgot! There were also three girls who came in late and sat side-by-side on one of the couches in front, hoovering up whatever food was left at that point. Gobble gobble gobble. My one friend said they looked like three dogs, their faces in the bowl. i didn't quite see that, but it *was* kind of funny how they were scrunched together, bent over the coffee table stuffing their dear little faces. Not even sure if they knew anyone there. Gotta love the Duck.

The rest of the night was - typical. Tag-team DJs (MC Cornflake, DJ Wednesday, DJ Slade - then also Jack Smiley, whose girlfriend was having a birthday party there, at the same time as the going-away). Clove cigarets. Dancing in the smoky back room. Wednesday played 48 Crash! How can you not love that?? Et cetera. The Duck is rather like a 9-volt battery.. eh, no, let's not make that analogy, shall we? You know its a dive, you know you don't *want* to know what all is in that couch, but you keep going back because..

Which i believe is about how Friday ended. That makes this a short-ish blog post, but then, i can do that sometimes, can't i? Of course i can. Really. Just watch me, watc-

Rats in Tuna-Noodle Casserole Paradise

Freshly showered, Arthur Brown's Kingdom Come on the record player, a cup of cold coffee at hand. Ready to try and note down last night before it all slips away.. another (too)crazy night in the fabulous life of a wolfkitten. Whose transformation to London party girl is a constant source of amusement to us all.

Mostly because this isn't London and girlhood is a long way behind me. But i intend to be Maude from Harold and when i grow old (sometime after the Mandy Slade phase passes), a doddering, wrinkled old lady with fire-engine red lipstick and false eyelashes - tho in my case, the lipstick will probably be lilac frost and the eyelashes tipped in silver glitter, one of them always, always askew. When i am old, i shall wear purple? Darlings, i've worn purple all along. When i am old - and i'm edging right up on being that *any day now* - i shall wear a top hat, and a fur coat, and dress like a Puerto Rican transvestite hooker. Coz that's just how i roll, bizzotch.

So yes. The last Friday of February. The day was worse than uneventful, but i managed to regain consciousness by late afternoon. i had a vague notion to stop at the Tremont library and pick out another DVD or two before the evening proper got underway, but shilly-shallied around until there was a scant 15 minutes left before the library closed and i was still getting dressed. Oops! In my defense, my steam-heated apartment is usually *very* warm and it can be difficult to wrap my head around the fact that i'll soon be standing outside smoking in below-freezing temperatures so yes, i really DO need that extra pair of socks.

Part of the plans for the night were to attend a Sordid Lives party, to which i had originally threatened to wear my waitress costume one more time. As Twitter followers already know, that didn't happen.. well, it really would have looked ODD the rest of the night. Instead, i chose a tasteful, low-key ensemble consisting of vintage black velvet mini-dress with studded collar and cuffs, wide black belt w/silvertone buckle around my hips, antelope-print velour bell-bottoms tucked in to black Ed Hardy 'tattoo' boots, topped with my shortie black rabbit fur jacket, top hat decked w/green Mardi Gras beads (the purple ones keep falling off) and my usual leopard-print fur gloves from Tarzhet. Yes, i am rather painfully aware that this blog is in desperate need of photos, but i haven't a digicam to my name. Wufkitties is technologicamally impairded.

Soo, once bedecked for the night ahead, i made a quick foray over to my local branch library, as i had a stack of cool Movie Night DVDs due back. Naturally i pulled in just as they were locking the door; hopefully i won't get fined the extra day :-( From there it was back home to an even-quicker bit of nosh - i <3 food that can be prepped with boiling water. TVP how i adore thee. Mmm, i think i need to make another pot of mock chicken noodle soup RIGHT NOW, hang on brb! Heh. Some day i will get around to posting my cookbook on Etsy ans then you can enjoy Mock Chicken Noodle in the privacy of your very own home.

Having re-fueled, i jumped into Severin Bloo, cranked up WCSB and headed to Tremont. Met up with some of the usual crew at Edison's.. i haven't decided yet how i should refer to those who make repeat appearances in my life in this here blog. First names only? Clever aliases? In-joke nicknames? Or maybe i should assign them all numbers, or single initials. i don't know. This is the interactive section of our blog, where you, gentle reader, can click right on down to that little 'comment' link at the bottom and have your say. O Web 2.0, how connected you have made all our lives!

Anyway, i barely had time for one quick cocktail at Eds - a black russian, in honor of it being National Kahlua Day. Mmm, have not had one of those in ~years~. i used to drink them all the time in a previous party girl incarnation, the one where i spent a lot of time inhaling butyl nitrate and dancing to Donna Summer in large, dimly-lit clubs filled with slim and sometimes mustachioed young men who really weren't too interested if i took my shirt off. Those were different times, as Uncle Lou says. But in a blink it was already 7:55, and the curtain for the Theater Ninjas production of "Crave" went up at 8:00. Good thing they are performing at Asterisk Gallery, a mere few doors down from Ed's - !

"Crave" isn't exactly a play, except that its performed by actors, who move about a stage area and recite lines in front of an audience. Some of those lines can be heard in the trailer (i don't know what you see, since the gumdrop refuses to show me). Asterisk has a central staircase in the floor as you enter from the lobby - the building was originally a nickelodeon, i believe - so that the audience was seated to either side of that. The actors would come together in the center, then break apart, sometimes flying into far corners of the gallery. The seating arragement meant that each half of the audience could see into one of the 'backstage wings', while action in the other one was effectively 'offstage'. Apparently, there are no stage directions at all in the play itself, so the choreographed action was all developed specifically for this production, in this space, by this troupe. Not a piece for the 'Tony & Tina's Wedding' crowd, but one i really enjoyed.

One of the actresses, in the role of 'M.', is someone i know and work with at the Liminis. Afterwards, the cast came out to mingle in the lobby, so we had a glass of wine and got to meet everyone. M. (as i shall call her for now) introduced me to the director and assistant director of the Theater Ninjas, and put in a word for me as possible costumer for their next production, "Heddatron". Robotic Ibsen? Oh *hells* yes. i'd already been eyeing audition notices on this one, trying to figure out if/how i might qualify somehow. But as costumer? Teh squee, i be has-ing it naow.

Of course, this one opens two weeks after "The Mineola Twins", which i'm stage-managing at the Liminis, and two weeks *before* the Fairie Festival, which is really the only craft show/event i do any more, and for which i should already be building up stock coz i'll sell almost everything i bring. Fortunately, the big secret "Center for Rock Research" project had to be pushed back to June, or i would ALSO be running lights on a brand-new DMX lighting system i know virtually jack and squat about right on opening night. As it is, it would be heaping my plate up pretty full, but hello? Theater work? If they offer it, you KNOW i'm going to say yes. And then proceed to drive myself backwards getting everything done in the next two months. See above reference to purple.

So. Yes. Since "Crave" is just less than an hour long, we were done and out of there while it was still relatively early - so back to Edison's for a moment to re-group. There, i was reminded that Kid Tested, fronted by a friend of mine, was playing at the Matinee; but i didn't think i wanted to try and squeeze one more thing into an already whirly night. So instead i headed directly to Duck Island, tho my one pal did hit the Matinee first. i hear Megachurch were really good and from his description i'm sorry i missed them. Can't recall if they're a Lottery League band but i'm kind of thinking so (ok i'm wrong). Btw, for anybody who might be wondering, ~why~ would such a fabulous creature as myself live in Cleveland of all places?!, just click that Lottery League link.

Ah darlings, its nearly time i was out the door, so the best(?!)(wildest) part of the evening shall just have to await my return. i don't think i'd better try driving to the Beachland in me undies, tho, so its time to pick out tonight's outfit and hustle my tuchus. Back soonest. Mwaaah.

like a crazy singer in a band that’s lost the words

Last night, I dreamt of Glocca Morra... again.

No, that's not right. Not right at all. Start over.

Last night, i dreamed i was a gossip columnist, in my Maidenform bra.

i wasn't really wearing a Maidenform bra. At least i don't think so. i don't make a habit of checking my undergarments in Dream. Even the quasi-lucid ones. And it wasn't last night, but the night before last; its just taken me this long to get it noted down.

Erm. Yes. i *did* Dream that, tho, really. And it seemed to make some sense out of Why This Blog. Maybe even why blogs in general. What are blogs but the stories we tell each other? Which might raise the question what are stories.. what's "true" vs. fictional. What is Reality(tm). Besides Silly-Putty, of course. Reality is what we say it is, what we all agree it is.

Which shall take me on a tangent, the principle of Bart Simpson's Cat. Naturally, i can't seem to find a still of Snowball II from Treehouse of Horror II to illustrate this properly, but its the episode where Springfield is held in a grip of terror by Bart, who has near-omnipotent powers. (or do i mean AN episode where - ?) In parody of an old Twilight Zone, anything Bart wishes or demands comes true, and Snowball II is transformed into a stilt-legged, ring-tailed fire-breathing monster clown cat. As cool as THAT sounds, its still not cooler than the big gay zombie dance number in 5000 Fingers of Dr. T, but never mind all that.

The Snowball II Principle, if you will, states that Bart could never really transform Snowball in such a way, because the rest of the world doesn't believe it possible. Unlike the premise of Treehouse II, Bart has no more influence over reality than anyone else. You may decide to spam my inbox shouting THE SKY IS PURPLE!!! over and over for days on end, but it won't change the color i see when i step outside and look up.

Unless, of course, the exactly right number of people all *agree* that the sky is purple. That would probably be a pretty damn large exactly right number, since "everybody knows" the sky is blue. There's another principle that goes hand-in-hand with Snowball II, which is the Deity Bank Account .. in this, the more people who Believe in a certain anything, the larger that certain anything's account is. We literally deposit our belief into it. Very large accounts, like Jesus or Elvis, have a lot of capital at their disposal; so that people can withdraw a large chunk, for expensive purposes - Jesus found me a parking space! Elvis cured my cancer!! - without disrupting the principle. Smaller accounts, like oh, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, can't 'afford' even minor miracles. Snowball II will forever remain a (Springfield)normal cat, because Bart's belief in the ringtailed fire-breather isn't enough to buy out everyone *else*'s belief in a normal widdle puddy tat.


i wonder what any of this has to do with a gossip column?
Maybe it's metaphysical gossip. Kind of like that What's Up on Planet Earth lady, if she were Nini-Pattes-en-l'air, an absinthe-fueled burlesque dancer. Writing a review of the Salon des Rose-Croix as presented at Doubting Thomas Gallery during ArtWalk, edited by Nico to a soundtrack of Jane's Addiction, the Tiger Lillies and the Virgin Prunes, for eventual inclusion in a limited edition fanzine put out by David Tibet and J.K. Huysmans.

Man. i would so totally read that. Especially if i found it stuck under my windshield wiper in the rain.

Srs subjects under a dark fishie moon

i don't think this will be a Happy Fun post. Sorry about that. i'm sure i'll be back to shiny perky bouncy wufkitndom soon enuf, so if Srs Subjects aren't your cuppa, pls do check back in a few days.

Its funny how things come up, come around, come about. i'm a long-time LiveJournal post-er, and recently got involved in a community thread about the merits of living in Cleveland. i'm very much on the pro- side of our fair yet troubled city - you can read the (now-locked) thread here, if you so desire.

In discussing pros and cons of living in the city, i happened to bring up the West Side Rapist. i've not told too many people this story, for various reasons. Perhaps mostly because there's ways i never felt it was 'that important'. i''m not quite sure why i'm telling it now; perhaps simply to have it said and done with.

In early 1983, i lived on Baltic Ave right at the Clifton/Baltic split. i had only recently left Cleveland Hts and the Coventry neighborhood. i was walking up to the Convenient on Clifton one evening, and noticed this guy apparently jogging. i'm pretty Aware of my surroundings, and in fact had been accosted on the street before, back in Cleveland Hts. So i kept him on my radar, so to speak. After i'd made my purchases and was ready to head home, i noticed him 'jogging' back behind me. Gee, workout suddenly took you in the opposite direction, fella?

i had gotten to within a couple doors from my house when he suddenly came up behind me, grabbed me w/one hand & dropped trou, began masturbating to try & get hard with the other. i knew he had been following me, so he did not have the element of surprise on his side. In reading about his case afterwards, this became one of his hallmarks: he would break in to women's homes, often knowing their roommates or children were sleeping a few doors away. He wasn't able to surprise me, but i was a little more fortunate.

He did not expect me to punch him.

Which threw him off just enuf to give me a break to run like hell and make it home. As i had only recently moved to the area (from Coventry) i didn't realize that i didn't live in Lakewood - i know, duh - so i called Lakewood police first. By the time i sorted out who i actually needed to talk to, i figured he was probably long gone and didn't bother calling Clevo police - after all, nothing ever actually "happened". :\

Fast forward a couple years when he finally got busted. i'm watching the evening news and they have his mugshot plastered all over the place. i take one look and say Holy shit, that's the dude that tried to rape me on Clifton a few years ago =:o In retrospect, i really, really regret not following thru and making a report at the time. i don't know that it would have *stopped* him; he seems to have had enuf of a chip on his shoulder that he was gonna do what he was gonna do. But it certainly makes one wonder.

i'm thinking i'd like to say more in this post about being a woman, safety, being objectified etc. As i mentioned, this was not the first time someone had attempted to grab me on the street, nor, sadly, would it be the last. i've not had any encounters for years (touch wood) but the last time, some late-teens gangbanger tried to grab me over in Collinwood, where i lived at the time. Once again, my temper actually came to my rescue - in that instance, i simply got all Huffy and unleashed a string of ghetto slang on him that again, threw him off long enough for me to make a get-away.

i'm certainly glad that i've been fortunate in each of these instances. i'm glad that i long ago learned that projecting an Attitude can often be an effective defense in and of itself. But it grieves me that even now, in the 21st century, this should continue to be an issue. i'm hesitant to ride my bike down to Tremont if i don't expect to be home until late, because i feel vulnerable out on the street at night on a bike. i'm not ~particularly~ scared; more that i am aware that i AM a single woman, certainly not as young as i used to be, and that i should perhaps not take the chances i would have when i was in my twenties.

This isn't very pithy or insightful or anything. Its awfully late and i really should be asleep. The subject came up, however, and it seemed maybe this is the time to get this story told and out of me. Last night i stayed up far too late with a friend and told some other stories, some that i've never spoken out loud to anyone before. Most of those stories - like why there's a razor-sharp, unscabbarded short sword by my door - are not ones i'm going to tell here or anywhere else. i'm just thinking that under this moon, it might be time for some things to be said.