sitting inside our neighborhood all-night indian food restaurant that my roommate and I frequent, I watched the devastating blizzard wreak havoc on Metropolitan expressway no. 4. I was finished with my hot cassis and only had one thing on my mind: to film.
I watched through the window as the unforgiving winds continued to barrage endless amounts of snow in front of us. for a moment I imagined being out there in the shit. breaking (another) umbrella, getting pelted and stung in the face by ice crystals, my nose running, my feet wet and freezing, and not being able to feel my fingers. the thought was not welcoming.
I had my camera on me with my initial intentions staying clear. I really wanted to take a shot of a shrine I saw covered in snow on the other side of the highway. the thought of crossing the tundra of hell only faltered me with doubt for a second–I decided I hate regret more than I hate blizzards. I have reoccurring nightmares about regretting not documenting something that catches my eye. I’d rather be cold and uncomfortable to get the shot then at home, warm and lazy, without photo. this is how I’ve always lived my life and I should know myself by now.
there are two 6ams that reside in their own separate universes. these two worlds, although parallel, dissect each other at one point every day but cannot be experienced simultaneously. those who reside in opposite paths have nothing to do with one another, and can only pass each other by at this daily moment in time.
I have frequented the 6am that you approach from the back end, behind the scenes. I often wondered what it would be like to appear before a brand new 6am, to view it as a beginning instead of the encroachment of the end.
as I walked home drunk, I was already conjuring up the exact sentences I wanted to type on my glowing keyboard. my brain began to predict what I wanted to say 20 minutes before I reached the ability to present my thoughts to the internet. I narrated my present for the future, but now I forget what was so great about it at the time.
I live a new life where drinking is the norm nearly every night. This happens because I befriended cute bartenders, japanese acquaintances, go clubbing, stay out all night, have access to cheap convenience store alcohol and live with a writer/ex-tokyo socialite who’s somewhat source of inspiration and socialization is whiskey. it’s also our part-time side job to get paid to drink. I have never drank so much in my life. I’m writing this drunk, although I feel of sound and mind (because I like to think I built up a tolerance) and have no idea when I have actually drank too much anymore until someone tells me the following day that I was really loud the previous night (excited, probably) and I discover mysterious bruises on body parts I don’t recall coming into contact with hard objects.
my eyes sting. lack of sleep, the awful fluorescent light or maybe the A/C blasting–a combination of all 3 probably. I spent most of the day a bit dizzy until I drank more alcohol at a gathering for a 3rd-tier k-pop star in a KBBQ oasis.
I feel like I am in a constant state of looking forward. I can’t remember where I have been because all I can concentrate on is worrying where I am going. It’s as if I fell asleep for a moment during a movie and I am trying to piece together everything else I missed. am I really in Tokyo? Wasn’t I just living in Seattle? no, I was in Seoul. it was cold there, what was I doing there. how did I survive with no money and no real job? How am I suddenly drenched in sweat in Tokyo when I recall being frozen every night in my basement apartment, awake at 4am drinking chicken broth and eating too much dark chocolate?
my mind wanders too rapidly to focus these days. I got my blog back (thanks mom!) but can’t think of one thing to focus on. so from here, I will ramble. It will be as random as a cat in a bag. speaking of which, check out this cat in a bag. my new friend has a cat–probably the best cat I’ve ever met–and this cat has no name. it is fluffy, talkative (only when you first meet) and complacent. he likes to play, but only for a minute.
my new friend and I had a casual Sunday, a type of comfortable hang time I knew existed but hadn’t been available to me for quite sometime. the type of hang out where no plans are made before hand except the reassurance of seeing each other. plans that had no set time arrival or departure. it was quite natural and the hang flow fell right into place, like an easy game of tetris. the type of hang you see common place in 90s sitcoms, where there are no boundaries from neighbors. did I mention, we are neighbors? in a really cool neighborhood? in Seoul?
Saturday began at 7:58 pm. the time when the sun was in the sky was meaningless and inconvenient. blinds were shut, movies were started, naps interrupted. I drove the long way ’round to the side of water I grew up on (but was not born in). I live now where I was born. only because I have a thoughtful and forward-thinking mother who was determined to bear me in a city that people know on a map, so I could grow up and tell people I was born IN Seattle and not have to lie about it to save time explaining what a “Kirkland” is. however, I like to tell that fun fact and thusly it adds time I was originally to save about the fascinating story of my birthplace.
Saturday night. went to Kirkland. Long way ’round. met up with a photographer bud to shoot some “Gucci Goth” (as he referred to it) shots around a marina. I approached Kirkland looking like a 90s goth club kid—all black asymmetrical dress, floppy black boots and a bowler hat. and let’s not ignore the bedazzled cross tank atop. I approached the sidewalk, dodging girls in neon sneakers and shorts, flipping their pony tails as they jogged with their tiny muppet dogs.
Definitely born in Seattle, not so much Kirkland.
after successful night time shoot with purple lipstick and wading in the water full of rocks, I maneuvered my way back to Seattle just in time to stop and grab a gluten-free pizza (pictured). got it to go, cuz I had to go. watch. STEPHEN CHOW MOVIES.
12:30 am, still “early”. Settled in, reading Murakami short stories (the elephant vanishes) when phone rings around 1:38 am. my friend Jazz! it must be an emergency!
I don’t own a black light because I do not color fuzzy posters, but apparently this turquoise polish I bought has the ability to glow. I painted my nails inspired by the teeth from the aliens in the movie Attack the Block. best aliens of the year, hands (nails?) down.
uncanny, I know.
2012 is going to be big, I feel it in my bones. I wouldn’t describe myself as superstitious, although by definition maybe I am. I don’t mind thinking “because I do one thing a certain way, it will affect something completely uncontrollable or unrelated”, because I like to make believe. I believe what you do on New Years will affect what’s to come next. I like to spend it with people that I hope to see a lot of and I wear an outfit that might sway the theme of the new year. you got to set it off right! not every year is going to be spectacular, some have more downs than ups or things don’t go the way you planned. but I know 2012 is going to be challenging and life changing more than any other year. If 2011 was a comfortable warm sloth, 2012 is going to be a raging running lion.
To pick up from the last entry in New York… I did more cool things, saw out of town friends, made new friends, took more test shots, got a freelance job, flew out to Palm Springs, sold at a Vintage market and then celebrated my 5 year anniversary of being with the little* bear up at Mt. Rainier. It’s hard to blog when you take mostly film photos. I have 14 rolls that still are waiting to be developed from months ago.
it didn’t rain so much in New York, but it got misty in Buschwick one morning. you can’t really tell in the photo, however. Now I have been back in Seattle, loving the rain but falling way too quickly into the same routine as pre-month-in-NYC. I wouldn’t want to live there, but subletting a few months at a time could be ideal. it’s all hustlin there, which is productive and all, but I would get NO anime watching in that’s for sure.
I came across my old blogspot I used for 12 entries sprinkled throughout 2009. I enjoyed the titles I used. and I liked the formulated rambling I did. I am not very good at blogging, am I? I am speaking into the depths of the internet as nothing echos back at me. I don’t suspect anyone will come across this, so no use in expecting an answer. it’s obvious.
“Sorry”, I shrug to no one reading this.
I promise not to make any empty promises about blogging better.
2012 has a lot in store, this I know. Good, bad, and the like.
I’m terrible. I had Devin take these photos because I was going to use myself as a drawing reference to sketch some things. I saw how these photos turned out, and fell in love with myself (this is not the first time). Wasn’t there some roman greek idiot who saw his reflection in a pool and then died because he stared at the pool forever and starved (probably looking continually great, loosing weight)? Clearly I don’t remember, but it could have been me.
It’s 3AM and I’m depriving myself of sleep because I keep going back to these photos. I just want to draw again. what a fiasco. I’m letting myself indulge (…myself), because for the past 4 or so years I haven’t felt as attractive as I used to feel. Oh those LJ days when I was 19 and totally into myself… It was that age that most people start to be more self aware, and I was in full throttle. Over time I developed a thing called ‘humility’. I recently dyed my hair to blonde for a third time. a lot has happened in my psyche since the last time I was blonde, 2 years prior.
My main point in bringing this up (to myself, since no one reads this but me), is right now I am reading this incredible shoujo manga called ‘MARS’ from 1996. The main character (a beautiful young guy, ‘bishonen’ if you will) reveals he had a twin. Later it is further revealed his twin committed suicide. There is an image and a moment in the manga where he is looking at his twin, dead on the pavement (jumped from the school roof). “He saw himself dead”.
Beautiful twins! oh how I wish I could watch myself without a mirror! I’d make myself laugh, I’d dress myself up! If I were twins, I would do me. I’m my own type. I fascinate myself, which is retarded. let me lie here, drowning in the reflection pool. end of self indulgence.