Worked the front desk at SITE. Mom texted to wish me a happy day-before-my-birthday – promoted by her remembering the time right before I was born, and feeling my presence even though she didn’t know me yet.
Grandpa Obie was learning Ableton Live and put it into an 3d non-linear setting. Automation lines in red and yellow extended over the mountains like telephone wire, but were not being held up by anything. Any point that was touched could be adjusted, and I realized they could not only be used to change volume levels, panning and effect levels in music, but also the direction and outcome of our destinies.
I walked through the dessert following one of the lines, altering it intuitively. It led me to an apartment building near some large body of water, strings of lights, and a train. I followed people in nice suits as their heels echoed up concrete stairs. Gold light emitted from the place. I passed an open living room with a vivid powder-aqua sofa. People with black hair sat on the couch and I admired the color combination. This was the kind of place I wanted to live.
|Faralitos on Canyon Road|
|Jazmyn bending fire with her will|
|Pals on Canyon Road|
When it’s afternoon in Australia it’s bedtime back home. Sometimes I get to have bedtime chats with my mom via facebook:
|(The Paintings are all from my mom’s “Rusty Pan” collection)|
Letter from mom:
Phew! Thanks for letting me know you’ve got food. Seriously, I’ve been wracked with some weird “beyond-my-control-child-is-far-away-and-I-can’t-feed-them” illness for days. I know you’re a big grown up with your own resources, on top of which you’ve got two lovers who would probably give you grocery money, or at least a good dinner, but I will probably never get over the innate need to feed you. It’s the animal in me, I guess.
I washed your car today, and took it out on a nice little run about town. Damn, that thing is fun to drive, and it’s so stylish and cute when it’s clean! I was pissed that Noah lost my ipod charger somewhere, and killed the battery on my ipod using it last week, because the radio was sucking in many different languages today. The shit they were playing on KSFR and KUNM, which is normally just some kind of jazz, ranging between crap and greatness, was, during my hour of listening enjoyment, a mix of out of control vomit. It was a fire hose of puke, and I don’t mean that in a good way. It wasn’t some bebop noise or silverware drawer music, which I like, it was white people trying to sing the blues with fake Mississippi accents, talking about their guitars being “women.” Fuck! They couldn’t even play their guitars, and their lyrics were as stupid as can be. It’s a good thing I hadn’t eaten lunch, or I would have lost it. And when they weren’t playing that shit, it was the BBC news, (Horrors from Around the World), or the local news where they read the front page of the New Mexican to us for ten minutes. Not only that, I made the mistake of thinking I could drive down Cerrillos Road and actually get to my destination, (Artisan). But, as we like to say around here, “you can’t get there from here.” That whole side of Cerrillos Rd. is a big pile of dirt, and there’s no left or right turn allowed.
It’s fun to rant about the amazingly small inconveniences of our little city. They don’t amount to a hill of beans, which of course, is what’s for dinner.
I love you,
My family were sitting on our old green couch, which was somewhat revived, we were all going to sleep. I left to sit with Kristen (BFF), watching the sunset reflect off the lake that the living room melted into. The pink was almost violent in its saturation, demanding that we stare in awe. Kristen pointed out that the lake looked like melted chocolate under the energetic sunset from our angle, and wondered what it looked like from above the clouds or outer space. I wondered what it would be like with a different type of perception completely unknown to me, or as nothing.
We began flying in a helicopter, during an earthquake. It seemed the shaking worked its way up through the atmosphere and created and odd sensation of gravity. As it turned out, an older man was telling us his story of a perilous flight, and we were transported to his memory.
Driving through San Francisco, the city streets became winding highways edged by tall rock walls. Apartment complexes replaced the rocks and mirrored them in structure – tall buildings on either side, where each door was nearly square and could fit a small car. The doors were stacked with varying placement, and each was a different bright color. Looking into a few of the open doors I saw modern design like one sees in architecture magazines, I was taken by a stainless steel bunk bed and thought that this is how college dorms should be.
Kristen, Leah and I walked into a green door and were greeted with a party of unknown Swedish relatives. I walked into one the of least crowded areas and met a very pregnant woman with sandy blond hair in a pony tail, a green shirt, and an open face. We shook hands and then she pulled me into one of the biggest hugs possible, picking me up and carrying me around as I thought: “Wow, its nice to be loved by a mom.”