Sunday, August 21, 2011

we sleep in the bodies of strangers. feeling, seeking, wondering what or who keeps the metronomic beat. and our hair grows and breath flows, without bridling or balking the way it should under the tremendous pressure of being a thing that cleaves to a thing called the earth, under a thing called the sky. it's really rather arrogant to exist within these bodies, to claim them, to intend, to assert. and we push through porous clouds of people and places and things, finding perfectly sized tunnels and pockets where we pass through on streets and in cafes and libraries. spilling coffee, brushing shoulders, catching intended and unintended glances, tenderly cradling our belongings - these artifacts of our previous selves that we promise to gift to our future selves. we live in gilded days, like tiny snow globes in christmas shops, sandwiched between there and somewhere else. eventually, though, pitted and pressed, we discover that we can't blow ourselves back up with the air from our own deflated lungs.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

my new wheels

special thanks to "Bob" on Hirsch and Western who hooked me up with this awesome bike (btw, anyone in Chicago looking for a used bike, let me know and I'll give you his info. he has lots of reasonably priced used bikes and seems like an honest guy). Also, special thanks to Rapid Transit Cycle Shop in Wicker Park for GIVING me the crate (free!) and even attaching it for me (win!).

Monday, August 1, 2011


brilliant colors: again and again
brown recluse: evening tapestry
eleanor friedberger - last summer
how to dress well - just once ep
foster the people: torches
the horrors - skying
mike simonetti - capricorn rising ep
release the sunbird: come back to us
washed out - within and without