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Wednesday, March 7th, 2007
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12:07 pm - music to yer ears
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these website are The Bees Knees (future band name, betty and the bees knees)
http://www.pandora.com/
tell them what song/artist you're into and they will look in their super data of millions of songs organised in tinfoil cartons and make you a radio station with lots of music that you will like. they call it the music genome project (cool) and it finds the music's genes and its predecessors, successors and friends. scientifically.
http://soundtransit.nl/
sound colletors have been ferreting out sounds from all corners. take a sound transit journey from anywhere in the world to anywhere, with stopovers. they will put together a jounrey of noises. it's nice.
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Comments: ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Sunday, February 13th, 2005
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12:58 am - The Rules
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1. Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy
2. Submissive to everything, open, listening
3. Try never get drunk outside yr own house
4. Be in love with yr life
5. Something that you feel will find its own form
6. Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind
7. Blow as deep as you want to blow
8. Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind
9. The unspeakable visions of the individual
10. No time for poetry but exactly what is
11. Visionary tics shivering in the chest
12. In tranced fixation dreaming upon object before you
13. Remove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibition
14. Like Proust be an old teahead of time
15. Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog
16. The jewel center of interest is the eye within the eye
17. Write in recollection and amazement for yourself
18. Work from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language sea
19. Accept loss forever
20. Believe in the holy contour of life
21. Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind
22. Dont think of words when you stop but to see picture better
23. Keep track of every day the date emblazoned in yr morning
24. No fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge
25. Write for the world to read and see yr exact pictures of it
26. Bookmovie is the movie in words, the visual American form
27. In praise of Character in the Bleak inhuman Loneliness
28. Composing wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under, crazier the better
29. You're a Genius all the time
30. Writer-Director of Earthly movies Sponsored & Angeled in Heaven
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Comments: ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Monday, December 1st, 2003
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10:58 am
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saturday night was sillllllllyyyyness, pints of ale, pints of gin, pints of weird gingerwine-whisky debacle...
there was dancing, this i am sure of, much spinning in circles in moshulu and probably (undoubtedly) forcing other people to spin with me and make fools of themselves too...
then a big blurry patch of nothingness ..?...
and waking up wrapped in a duvet on someones floor scattered with es and bucky bottles and cans of half-drunken cooking lager, and consuming these all for breakfast and bwarghhhhhhhhhhh
*falls over*
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Comments: 1 frightening verse - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Friday, November 21st, 2003
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12:44 pm
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our philosophy tutor told us stories yesterday about magical octopusus (octopi?) who float around the pacific pretending to be other creatures, flattening themselves out and spreading their octopussy tentacles in a sting-rayesque manner, wriggling around like electric eels and gernally playing halloween pretend everyday of the year. apparently you can pull them through a tube and their (4) brains will squish up into some glutenous substance and squeeze through, and we all aggreed they are indeed the smartest of things. oh and the identity theorists have their unromantic, physicalist, materialist, realist, cynical bollocks theories quashed by magical octopuses/pi.
i don't know why this makes me so happy, but it does.
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Comments: 1 frightening verse - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Monday, November 3rd, 2003
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12:19 pm
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ohhhhhh, halloween is so sublime
i was glittery and green and spinny and filled with soul-warming tingly absinthey goodness all night, performing beautiful and grandoise and ceremonial rituals with spoons and sugar, scalding my fingers and eyebrows, it burns...
wearing masks is always fun, playing at someone else, something else, mad exestential faerie spouting philosophical randomness every time she inhales, spinning faster&faster in stockinged feet and being sillier&sillier as the night progressed.
i love halloween, i wish we celebrated the end of every month like this.
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Comments: 5 frightening verses - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Tuesday, October 14th, 2003
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4:16 pm
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ohhh, protests are fun.
later we got to listen to some very intense and angry and SHOUTY CAPS LOCK types talking about iraq and planning to firebomb mr bush out of existence when he comes a-visiting. which would be good. and then to the pub, oh dear.
bless laurence who organised the anti-arms protest but has laringitus so made it seem all conspirital and communistic by whispering in the ears of everyone who arrived. for the rest of the night all conversation was conducted through the medium of notebooks (which made everything seem superpoetic and beautiful and should be recommended to anyone drunken and inspired) and we stumbled home into bed drunken and silly at 5am, and my head hurts today.
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Comments: 5 frightening verses - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Sunday, October 12th, 2003
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2:19 pm
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so much for being in any way decent at keeping in touch, these past two weeks have been a little (hah) submerged in madness so brief and random summary...
ska dancing! ballgown and dunlop trainers. gin!gin!gin! groupie idolisation and onstage flirting with The 55s singer *purr*. ballboy setlist! arthouse film pretensions brazil,whatthefuck?. open mic night, every night, acoustic geetarr, folky girls, chop!! and ohhh, dancingdancingdancing or sitting with gin and pints in those darkened attics, crouched on the floor among stickiness and plectrums. sensational hair, afroes and quiffs and floppy indie boys. jeremy's trilby. arthur's seat, stumbling and wine-drunk. old-man theme pub crawls through the old town. ohhhh, and tea parties, daily, bright eyes and jack johnson soundtracks to endless camomile tea and crumpets and such things
anyway...
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Comments: 1 frightening verse - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Friday, September 26th, 2003
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10:43 pm
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ohhh, my muse is online, a prettyprettiness girl who looks like karen o and writes like pete doherty did before he eskewed everything literate and beatiful and arcadian-urchins for arm-punctured criminalities.
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Comments: 2 frightening verses - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Wednesday, September 24th, 2003
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2:05 pm
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What in the world ever became of sweet Jane?
She lost her sparkle, you know she isn't the same
Livin' on reds, vitamin C, and cocaine,
All a friend can say is "Ain't it a shame?"
You're sick of hangin' around and you'd like to travel;
Get tired of travelin' and you want to settle down.
I guess they can't revoke your soul for tryin',
Get out of the door and light out and look all around.
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Comments: ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Tuesday, September 23rd, 2003
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1:14 pm
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woke up miracualously without a hangover today (i'm not sure why either). it may have had something to do with the vast quantities of munchied foood i consumed at 1am, mostly cheese, given that i'm so short on drugs and needed to live my hallucinations through my dreams.
fuck, they were weird though. time went all elasticated so the stars were like long wavering streamers, it went all gloopy and liquidated round one day so it stretched into eternity and then it solidified round a week and we were trying to get in to no avail. then these dogs pushed their noses through the mosquito net on our tent, just leapt at it and burst straight through. the fuckers wouldn't go away even though i was screaming 'shoo' and trying to outstare them in some kind of a weird power trip. i blinked. then we were on a weird diving mission where we ended up finding these atlantis mini worlds which had burgandy carpets with tiny gold flecks on them. and we had to dress up in french knickers for the spectators. and my teeth wouldn't stop bleeding, so when i was going under i kept getting mouthfulls of blood every time i tried to put the regulator in. fortunately, the atmosphere in the homes was breathable and the only clue to us being at the bottom of the ocean was that certain parts of the carpet got wet when you stood on them, and there was a very enthusiastic woman dressed in tweed who brought us the underwear in the first place. i think it was a competition to see who could stay their the longest, apparently these worlds were all prepared before and there were other teams doing the same thing. we had thought we were trying to stay in the water longest so we had stocked up on diving equipment. bad move. it should have been cigarettes and food and backgammon boards. so it goes.
but such is life.
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Comments: ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Monday, September 22nd, 2003
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6:57 pm
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oh WOW kurt vonnegut is just layers upon layers of genius.madness.insanity.brilliance!!!
i'm endlessly taken by the idea Tralfamadore. the thought that everything exists in four dimensions and most people can only see three, and that's why the world believes that things such as faeries and goblins and werewolves and heaven and hell don't exist. but of course they do. just not to everyone's eyes. and it is just an illusion we have here on earth that one moment follows another like beads on a string, and that once a moment is gone it is gone forever. and death doesn't really exist when you can look at time like we look at the rocky mountains, like we look at a landscape, focusing on one part to another as easily as shifting our gaze. and you can fall in love and it will exist forever, it's just we trap it in our bubbles of time and it's imprisoned there forever, and we never see past the trappings to burst the shimmery surface and drench our entire lives in those moments.
i think somewhere in the minds of drug-addlers and dreamers and poets and musicians there's a tiny hole that we can slip through, seeping vaguely into the extra dimension just occasionally, just ever so often in a bright burst of light and genius, and every-so-often losing yourself (myself) in the lewis carrol tunnels that worm deep into the surface of reality and twist&turn&shiver through all the things our parents taught us not to believe in, because they grew up and forgot they existed.
oh, and have you ever stared at the sun so long that the entire horizon has just...exploded?
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Comments: 3 frightening verses - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Sunday, September 21st, 2003
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7:45 pm
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eeeeeeee! still on a major spinny~joyous high from having found the dancing soulmate of jim at moshulu on friday night... someone decided to feed me absinthe (i lurve youuuuu!!) and that, coupled with the general gin habit i've been cultivating, contributed greatly to obscene purple rotating behaviour, winning at table football (hah-HAH!), hugging random strangers because they weren't smiling enough for my liking and gernally acting like a complete ginfool. (gin is now the precent to everything, in the context of *ginslut* behaviour).
last night me&phil drank lots of nice red wine and watched the stars from my roof (because no smoking in my mother's house, no sir) then idolised all our geetarr heroes and giggled high-pitchedly at sid&nancy moments ("how d'ya spell oliday?" "s-h-i-t" "dear mum...having a lovelayyyyyy !!!!")
and today i've been taught how to play purple haze on the guitar, which makes me more warm and smiley in my soul than i have words to express. this evening is half a bottle of wine for me, raymond chandler, kurt vonnegut, worn down blistery finger-ends and my huge red chair in the corner. mmmmm *purs*
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Comments: 2 frightening verses - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Friday, September 19th, 2003
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1:02 pm
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eeee! email from my tarah...quote to self I just ran into some people from high life...they said that after we left everone called us the mushroom girls i think the thing that pleases me most about this is that random people we met one day still remember me in thailand, like a little piece of my me is still there, being remembered and being insane and taking mushrooms daily in the heads and stories of some stoners. and that's endlessly pleasing
oh god, i miss thailand. right now she's heading for a meditation retreat in chang mai for 21 days of silence and solitude. a cleansing of the system after our months of abuse. i wish i could say the same for myself...instead i'm consolodating my gin&whisky habits and becoming (remaining) all grubby inside.
ohh, i let my mother at my hair with scissors, WHY? whywhywhy? it felt like penance after she bought me suber-expensive conditioner to get rid of my diver's split ends. now it feels like stupidity.
other randomness...do lambs truly sleep peacefully? have you ever watched one lie in bed all dreamless and unconscious and rested? and when they grow up and become sheep, does all their youthful innocence fade away and they become tortured and tormented beasts, tossing and turning under their make-believe duvets, screaming internally at sheeply dreams and insanities? or are we just so narcissistic we can't bear to compare ourselves to anything that isn't cute and fluffy and childlike? truthfully, i've been sleeping like a sheep recentely, waking up and staring at the swirling red circles on my ceiling (these really exist, this isn't some complex metaphor this time...) and realising FUCK, i'm in the same bed i've been in since childhood. i can't decide whether this is manifest of my awaysickness symptoms or simply because it's the first time this year i haven't been going to bed in a state of obscene drunken/stoned behaviour. still, much drinking tonight, so we shall see...
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Comments: 3 frightening verses - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Sunday, September 14th, 2003
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4:49 pm
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hurrah! i finally got rid of my party hangover (stumbling around for a day mumbling 'it hurtsitHURTSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS' and planning to move to penrith). time to celebrate with red wine and drugs. phil's fridge is mightly well stocked with alcohol and cheese and very little else. nibbles! why do salt&shake crisps taste SO good?
random journal quote of the day "I only hope that I don't puke because there are few things taste as rank as partially digested orange juice" . My bleeding soul!
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Comments: 3 frightening verses - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Thursday, September 11th, 2003
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2:37 pm
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i've been crossing continents, tripping over time zones, stumbling around the world (oh GOD, yes, the world, i've been to it now, i've seen it, and it's fucking INCREDIBLE) and now i'm back and well, we don't talk about that. but still... for anyone who missed who missed my random spouted nonsense and dreams… (and more than that, for me to read in the early hours when I need to remember the Promised Better Places.)
( old diary pages and messages scribbled on paper bags )
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Comments: ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Monday, September 8th, 2003
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10:24 pm
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i can't cope i can't cope i can't cope
but instead of the drained and jetlagged ramblings of a slightly soulstricken gypsy girl who circumstance made come home i'm going to spatter you in the dreams of the past month, random spasms and spurts of insanity...
slitting our feet on the rocks because we're too high and too happy and too wastedly beautiful to do anything other than jump in the sea with all our clothes on, giggling mouthfulls of saltwater and acrid smoke, mushroom hallucination dreams and lazy hammock days.
we crawled through the diamond and the eye and the fire and the rainbows and then we were THERE, on the beach, feet in the sand, the mushrooms swirled pretty pictures and my eyes exploded in the mirror, pupils like basement vortexs, crawling through the irises like so many awning cupboards and scuffing our feet on the cluttered boxes of junk from past days until everything justjust... disappeared, falling visions of guitar chords and pink floyd crazy diamonds and the lewis carrol promises.
...i've got a phosphorescent secret, i've got memories that EXPLODE when i close my eyes....
ohhh, and we danced, glistening-eyed girls with broken feet stumbling with the hookah and promising pretty things - the rain!!! - strobe lighting exploding in glitter as it bounced off each droplet and onto our shinyshinyshiny skin (we were glowing, sparkling with teeth that could reflect the entire moon, dancing like we're chemically altered by somthing other than this white dust that covers everything....it's just sand, it's in our toes and our hair and our beds and our sleepy hammock mornings and it's so beautiful, life, it's burning a hole in my heart and my retinas and i want to grab all my insane memories of the last 9 months and cram them in their eyes and scream "look! loook! how fucking beautiful is the world??? how can you not KNOW????????????")
because, ps, it really is, the skies are shooting stars and the sea will always exist because so will the moon, tugging at waves and heartstrings, and even though i'm a thousand miles from my soul right now and i want to fly right back to my madness, i still...i still grin lunatic smiles and dream of steller nights
!!!
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Comments: 2 frightening verses - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Friday, August 29th, 2003
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2:14 pm
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i'm feeling like everything has gone just steller
diving and weightless every day and the feeling of perfection we have jumping in to the water...well, we recreate it in elaborate festivals every night with bags of psychedelics and stoner experiences. shaun took his djembe out on mushrooms while tarah trance meditated on the rock, we stared out to sea and grinned at how beautiful the world is. swimming stoned in the sea, mushroomhigh, giggling, collecting shells and coral all day from the beach (pretty colours, and i remember theway the coral looked in the ocean, when it pulsated and bounced with alien life, and i wonder how the world and people can destroy such a beautiful thing, but in death the coral coats our beachfront bungalow and when we dream of our sunsets they're spattered with dream catchers created with hemp and beach offerings some stoned evening
i think i'm living in a dream. maybe i fell asleep in the sand in ko pha-ngan when we were lying on the beach in a multicoloured haze (random guitar notes picked out in the sand) because when we wandered into the sea it glowed with phosphorescence, the water lit up and tongled and vibrated around us with tiny green and blue lights, tiny insane creatures, i lay on my back supported by them and their light as i counted shooting stars and flying lanterns that explode across the sky in thailand, shoot to the heavens then trail a gold star across the million silver lights of the stars, we could barely catch our breath, and they told us in thailand it's NORMAL.
a piece of phosphorescence washed up on shore and we cradled it in our hands, it glowed blue light that made me think of mad hallucinations and insanity, i might have been tripping but it was still real
last night we jammed all night on the beach with joints, guitars and rasta baby's djembe, we left our backpacks in a pub and slept for free under the stars with our toes in the sand. i really, really love life right now.
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Comments: 4 frightening verses - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Thursday, August 14th, 2003
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6:40 pm
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oh GOD!! the sunrise today...i lay in tatters on the beach with amphetimines and whisky and chemical dreams floating around my bloodstream, and wow!! is the most prophetic i can manage today.
life is absolutely perfect, beyond all realm of comprehension, i'm on a tropical island in thailand, we celebrate the full moon every way we can conceive, life is spent underwater flying round the alien world where everything quivers and pulsates with colour and life, i get to dive every day! thailand is just...sublimesublimesublime. i'm thanking god and the world for being so damn perfect right now.
wow...
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Comments: 1 frightening verse - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Wednesday, August 6th, 2003
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3:27 pm
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oh, you should have come play in melbourne yesterday, it was perfect. i walked to st kilda and spent half the day on the beach throwing starfish back into the water, staring at the jellyfish who've sacrficed themselves on the broken shells and burying my toes in the sand (the perfect thing to do in winter, and all the time belle and sebastian lyrics....ease your feet off in the sea, my darling, it's the place to be. take your shoes off, curl your toes...) and of course skipping stones for wishes. lunch at 4 in the veggie bar which has the opened windowfront gazing out at brunswick street, (which i could describe a thousand times in abject beauty and detail, suffice to say anarchism is revered in spray paint and posterpasted madness and everything spills out onto the streetfronts and the road) and the magazines all promised music&art&independentfilmfestivals and i died quietly and smiling. at night i watched donnie darko in an arthouse bar with Beautiful People, at the end a boy turned to me and his faith in human nature had just been restored, then we all turned ourselves out into the evening streets and darkened rain with pretty pictures in our minds. the tired and impoverished backpackers didn't want to come out with me and explore the bohemian lights, some people don't get enthusiastic about tram lines at twilight hanging low over the city (i SIGH, they're so pretty...) so i went looking for jazz alone and found it in some tiny cafe bar, and befriended the sax man and a drummer boy, who took me to a GAY BAR (electric six voices here please) and lots of dancing till the small hours, then home to watch some strange david attenborough nature documentary on lizard sex with a stoned kiwi bloke with a lazy voiced drawl and tatooes on his wrists, and i babbled drunkenly my hearts deepest strangest darkest desires (while he dozed on the sofa, and probably intermittently mumbled at me to shut up, but i was too glowy and smiley and tingling to pay much attention).
and such is life right now
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Comments: 1 frightening verse - ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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| Monday, August 4th, 2003
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1:18 pm
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quickly...a true story i've been dwelling on a lot recently
i was in sydney, took the train to bondi beach after stumbling down darlinghurst road in the cross, shoeless and unconcerned about the scattering of syringes and prostitutes which lined the street, the sun was shining so brightly i couldn't help but stare at it till it almost burned holes in my retina, it was lucky because the sun doesn't often shine on darlinghurst road, the neon walls and smut shops line the road too high and light never fights its way in, except for a few hours in the day when the street is lit and it seems wrong, the nocturnal air curdles and the grubbyness dissolves a little in a way that seems altogether wrong for the cross. anyway, i took the train to bondi and wandered down to the cliffs and the day was perfect, the seabed drenched in the kind of turquoise water which brings to mind coral&diving&turtles&dreams. this walk along the cliffs is tranquility and perfect peace away from the stresses of the city, and to make matters better not a single other person was within view, i could have been the last person alive and jumped from the cliffs to the water, and they wouldn't have found my body till it dissolved into stars. about three quarters of the way along the gravel path snakes into civilisation a little away from some cliff tops which are cordoned off and deemed too dangerous for the public, of course i climbed the rope and padded along to the furthest point where i lay flat on the briny rocks, sea spray in my hair strong enough that when i licked my lips they tasted of salt and visiting my gran as a child. in this perfect paradise moment, baking in the sunlight as high under the sun as i could care to be and waiting for a stronger gust of wind to blow me straight into the ocean as i stretched on the furthest peak, and as the wind changed it picked notes of some lonesome sax out of the air. i shivered inside, they were far enough away to only catch ever so often as the wind peaked right, and my curiosty was suitably aroused to stand up and pad over in the direction of the music, and crouching, spasming in some insane personal ecstasy of the moment and the music, some perfect boy torturing himself with his saxaphone on the clifftops, and me the last person in the world alive to hear it. i stayed out of sight until he noticed me, terrfied of stealing the moment away from him and myself, and when he turned and came over to speak to me i had a sudden shock of realised fantasy, i pictured him laying me down on the rocks here and kissing me all over, then never seeing him again, falling in love perhaps and leaping into the water together, for one brief second in time he could have been my soul mate and we'd wander back (he in bare foot also, how perfect?) to sydney and live there in a haze of pot and jazz bars and sleepy morning sex.
of course, it didn't happen. he smiled and began to talk, and the day, the moment, life, was so perfect i couldn't bear to deprive my life of this beauty by making it normal, conversational, sensible. had he come and touched my hand or kissed me or quoted kerouac i would have fallen in love and gone mad with the wondering of it, but he made some comment about the weather or me travelling or something, i've blocked it out of my mind because it would pervade every second of this memory otherwise, and i couldn't stand that because it was ohhh, perfect till then. so i turned before he even finished his words, let my hair catch in the breeze and ran from the moment, and i've wondered ever since.
expecting perfection from the world, diamonds from the stars, beauty from the ordinary....i might be missing out on some dreams&moments, but life is sublime, and i couldn't reject it. i don't know the point in this story except it makes me shiver and smile, wonder about myself in this (madmad) world and appreciate life, because it terrifies me and i love it more than [...]
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Comments: ask me, i won't say no, how could i?.
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velvet_jane's journal