textures and colors

These are patterns from some of my clothes and bags. I thought I could use them as sort of a backdrop to webpages or something. I lost my memory card for my camera, so now it only takes 12 pictures at a time. It's sort of nice. It makes you picky about what you photograph, like in the old days when people actually had cameras with film.

It's sort of amazing how epic it is to just sit on a bench in the sunshine in San Francisco. The land of fog becomes the land of cavorting children and people throwing frisbees to their dogs, and picnics and barbeques for no reason at all.

I have some recommendations for y'all:
Brick- a stunning film noir detective movie where all the actors are teens. It's set in the suburban wasteland of San Clemente, CA. I am of the opinion that that hard-bitten, gritty, and overly dramatic film noir thing fits the world of teenagers perfectly. Everyone is wild with sexual tension, violent urges, emotional turmoil etc. at that age. It makes sense. The dialogue is killer too.

Ian McEwan- this author writes such slow chaos and drama into quite insular family stories. It's like that David Lynchian unveiling of the inner perversions of outwardly normal suburban life, except without the random surrealism and blantant "I'm a weirdo!" moments. McEwan also seems to have a thing about spending hot summers in isolated places and how this makes everyone a little crazy. He's also a extremely respected author so you can feel smart when you read him on the bus!

Fernet and Ginger Ale- a refreshing after-work beverage. Fernet on it's own is sort of gross (though it's apparently taking the hip SF bar scene by storm) but paired with ginger ale it is both minty fresh and warming. If you forget to brush your teeth you can dash out on your break at work and have a shot at the bar! Viola! (Just kidding...jeez!) It also contains natural opiates.

Robert Wrigley- I gave my mom a book of his poems for Christmas, called "The Lives of the Animals". Each poems is about animals; horses, dogs, bats, but of course about just being alive on the earth too. It's truly kickass stuff:

QUIET NIGHT by Robert Wrigley

The bat's opened thorax blips

—that's its heart

beating, says the child—and its mouth bites at

the air, and the cat

that brought it down sits two steps below

and preens, while the pale cone

shed by the porch light makes and remakes itself

with the shadows of miller, moth, and midge.

Listen, the darkness just under the stars

is threaded with passings:

nighthawks and goatsuckers, the sleepy respirations of the forest,

and the owl that asks first for a name,

then leaves its spar

and spreads a silence

so vast and immobile

you can hear whole migrations inside it,

the swoons, the plummets, the bland ascensions

of souls.

El Radio Fantastique- We caught their show the first night we were back in SF, at Amnesia (the aptly named dark red bar where I forgot my hat and sweater). The frontman was a Buster Keaton figure in a ill-fitting ancient suit and spats, his croons and gentlemanly gesticulations were done in utter touching seriousness, and his voice was fantastic. He was backed up by a crack band with stand up base and fiddle among them. His Girl Friday was seated at the keyboards, she sang in a husky timbre and looked like she was fashioned out of Victorian ivory, black velvet, and lace.
Do you:
collect old Valentines?
use a pen and a bottle of ink?
drink wine in junkyards?
Then this band is for you!

Tattoo Appreticeships- Christ I hope this works out...........

much love,
Kai