Archive for August, 2010

More Adventures in Dream City

August 28, 2010

I just barely remember the adventures in Dream City last night. In one portion, I was walking around what kind of looked like Oxford Street in London. Dream City often takes on characteristics of places I’ve visited as well as looking like an amusement park. I saw a pair of hot pink patent leather glittery platform shoes in a store window but I couldn’t afford them because they cost 249 dollars. I tried them on anyway and the heels got shorter when I did.

THEN I was suddenly with my sister, Wendy. I looked up and noticed a crane that was about to fall on us. Panicked, we ran to the subway along with another girl who I didn’t know. We knew we only had a few minutes before the crane fell and crushed us to our death and we had to get on the train and get away. But the first train was too full and the conductor wouldn’t let us on. The girl I didn’t know said she wasn’t gonna wait around and Wendy tried to follow her. I told Wendy she had to wait with me and just then, a train magically pulled up. We found two seats.

THEN I was suddenly at City Hall though it didn’t look much like City Hall…more like a tiny sauna type room. Inside I was performing a gay wedding. Everyone was really stressed because KISS were supposed to show up and play but they hadn’t shown yet. Then they did and I said, “How do we know it’s really KISS because they have their makeup on?” Good question! Then some authority figure type person showed up and threw us all out, saying we didn’t have a license to perform the wedding.

Next, Wendy and I were at some type of vacation house with our mother. I was sleeping on a cot. Then I woke up and ate something and went back to sleep while also sweating profusely. I said, “Sometimes a vacation means sleeping, eating and sweating.”

That’s pretty much it.

More Art

August 26, 2010

Someday I’ll take decent photos of these:

Queen Amanita

Show Poster

Checking in…

August 26, 2010

It’s been a while because I’ve been painting, writing articles (for Penthouse and a new CW fan site) and traveling (just to DC, not very exotic, but fun.)

Anyway, this is what I did yesterday during a manic episode:

This is my bitchen new jacket

Long-Eared Japanese Satanist

August 13, 2010

More weird adventures on the astral plane: Last night I “went” to a big, wooden house where a Japanese Satanist painter lived. He had long pointed ears that protruded from his head at a 90 degree angle. He was fabulously wealthy and throwing a party. My friend, Velocity, was there and we were drinking smoky red wine and in the dream, I was thinking I’d really like a beer but I’m getting fat. Amazing that even in dreams, I’m vain. The Satanist told me that he’d once spent a night at Aleister Crowley’s castle then he turned everyone’s attention to a rag-doll sitting on a mantle-piece. He evoked a spell and the doll came to life. She was laughing and saying that another doll was flirting with her, then she told us she was Egyptian and she started to look like a Goddess. Then, suddenly, I was transported to a big, white room, which I think was supposed to be a gym only it was full of cats, really mangy cats who were happy even though they were mangy. There was also a dog there that one of the cats was playing with. Then I was suddenly transported to a beach (the Dream City Beach where I often end up.) I was walking toward the water on pink stilt pogo sticks that attached to my feet via a hat strapped to my head. When I got to the beach, it appeared most of the beach had been washed away by the ocean. Then the sky got really dark and I was sure that the ocean was about to wash the beach and everyone on it away because I could see a hurricane coming. I ditched my pogo sticks, turned and started running from the ocean through a clear corridor. But as I did, the sky I was running toward grew even darker and I could see a tornado coming at me full throttle. I was pretty sure I was about to die and I wondered whether it would be quick or if I would be maimed and die slowly. Then I woke up.

I think the doll might have been the Great Goddess Oshun. Though Oshun’s not Egyptian, the doll looked a lot like Oshun dolls I’ve seen:

Smokin’ With Ozzy

August 12, 2010

So, last night I astrally traveled to the “Dream City” that I described several posts ago. I found myself in an abandoned “Apple” store with Ozzy Osbourne, about 15 Chihuahuas and my coworker, Karolina. We were all smokin’ a doob. Then I said, “This store needs some decorations!” and I took out some newsprint and a flair pen and drew a troll throwing stars up at the sky.

When I woke up, I had an epiphany. A few days ago, I’d been so depressed about the state of my career that I announced on facebook my “retirement” from making art. But then, I was making art in my dream so I guess I can’t help but do it. Therefore, I’ve decided that what I should retire from is the “business” of creativity. I’m just going to stop “trying” to be successful. I’ve been broke this long and my life is pretty great anyway. Who cares if I’m broke for another 20 or 30 years? Hence, I’m just gonna keep doing my thing, making my stuff and if someone wants to buy it, great. But I’m not gonna even think about it. Done. Trying didn’t work so maybe not trying will.

:(

August 10, 2010

Am feeling very much like I have no future at the moment, but I’m still drawing and I haven’t started smoking again.

My Fave Poet

August 10, 2010

My favorite poet is Marc Bolan who also happened to be an elf. I love this song and seeing as how I’m too busy to have a creative bone in my body, will let someone else do the writing today:

Quick Update

August 6, 2010

I finally got a job. It pays shit but it involves writing and I get to do it from home, which means I might never bathe or change out of my pajamas again. In other news, the WTF podcast I was in is up. You can listen to it here.

That’s all for now. Gotta go do “sweatshop writing.”

Pretty Poem

August 2, 2010

I just wrote this to cheer myself up. Actually I wrote it in my head while walking JJ just now:

Everyone is pretty
And everyone is gay
A happy party
Is all we’ve got today
The sky is pink and purple
Full of unicorn clouds
The orchestra of art stars
Are making happy sounds
I am dancing gaily
My body it feels fine
My feet don’t hurt
My heart ain’t broke
I am drinking wine
Everyone’s so pretty
And everyone is gay
Or bi or straight
Or up for some role-play
The sky it looks so groovy
Floating above my head
The night is falling gently
But we won’t go to bed

This Blog

August 2, 2010

I think some people start blogs with the intention of attracting fans and maybe they imagine someday they’ll be professional bloggers, which I actually was a few years ago. But I’ve decided this blog is going to have no intention whatsoever. Like everything else I do, I’m not sure why I’m doing it. I never know why I’m doing anything. It’s like I’ve just vomited up my life.

Here’s an ultra-depressing poem I wrote the other night. See, if I wanted to attract readers, I might try to do something funny or entertaining, but I’m giving you this because it’s real.

9 Months

I always get calendars with baby animals on them, and
I flip the page on the calendar before the month is over,
to get further away from the heartache of losing you.
But today, it didn’t matter.
I knew it was the 30th.
And the tiny foxes couldn’t hide it.
9 months since your death.
I can’t/won’t/don’t want to
make some kind of pregnancy
gestation stupid sentimental reference
Except that I’m full of grief
And everything is swollen
From my eyes to my belly to my liver
I’ve got little beads on my wrist
And I’m praying, chanting, whispering
To shut up everything in my head
But all I can think is that last summer
I had no idea you’d be gone
this summer.