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Monday, May 10, 2004

the beginning:
strong, broken, unobviously so

the end;
fragile, complete, obviously so
sabato style

a character:
as fragile but unobviously so

the ending:
fragile, but obviously so

some people say that jazz and blues are the only american art forms.

the endless stream of self-criticism. those imaginative, delusional assumptions based sometimes on only the most fragile of occurences. a slight remark, an uncomfortable grimace, a hesitation.

"did he mean something by that?"
he meant that i was fat, didn't he.

"is he trying to say something?"

the magnification of all these, the twisting and turning and strecthing - the warping of reality fueled by something weird.

writing, literature as embodying these weird awkward phenomenon negative capturing the inner voice, harnessing it, dominating it, exposing it, writing about, exorcising it in the process.

courageously seeing it, relflecting it, and showing it off, all the time remaining u

there is no denying doubt and fear and self-criticism. there never will be, because they will always be there.
hotbed of commercialism that provides endless motivation

but like pablo rivera said to frida kahlo, "a true artist doesn't paint for money, he paints because he can't live without painting."

Wednesday, May 5, 2004

the ancient yogis said that the mind represents the future, the body the past, and the breath the present.

i sat in grainger tonight thinking about the six papers and two finals all due within the next 38 hours,  leaning back on my chair and feeling the soreness of legs that run miles and swim laps. then i remembered what the ancient yogis said and started to breathe.  

according to the yogis, remaining carefully aware of the breath, existing in the present moment, connects the mind and the body with the breath- neutralizing worries about the future and clearing away painful ruminations over the past.



Monday, May 3, 2004


the $1.25 king size peanut M&Ms got stuck in the vending machine right before work today.


the machine itself was quite wobbly, and after a few seconds of semi-furious pounding and swaying i was almost convinced i could eventually weasel my candy free. it cost one dollar and twenty five cents.

a few minutes later and still no luck, i resorted to pushing and pulling the machine in a softer, more rhythmic fashion in an attempt to deflect any attention-grabbing distractions brought about from the hopeless travail to free my sugary confections from their unjust enslavement.  i laughed a little.

a teaching assistant found me in my conundrum "what if you try this?" she said with a thick german accent while pretending a swift kicking motion against my boxy, formidable foe. i smiled a little and laughed some more.

so i went back home, (it's only five minutes away) fifteen minutes late for work now, for more change ($1.25). on the way back down the stairs i heard a dull clink, then nothing as a dime slipped through my fingers and dropped into the green oblivion of the scruffy, patchy lawn outside the building. walking back upstairs to the apartment, i told myself this was all going make the M&Ms taste so much better.

later at work i was voraciously wolfing them down (emotionally, really) while distributing the packages, letters, flyers, applications, junk-mail, academic journals, and magazines sent to the foreign language building.


this month's harvard magazine is running a cover story on the obesity epidemic in america. about how we eat too much junk food and live bloated, sedentary lifestyles. i gobbled M&Ms three at a time while contently leafing through page after page of the article.


Saturday, May 1, 2004

queen amygdala

Everyday Italian

chef giada de laurentiis really looks like natalie portman. today on her show on the food network she made lightly fried calamari and later sat around a table drinking italian beer with a bunch of guys at the end of the show.  


can't wait to see nat's new movie, garden state coming out july 30th. i remember sitting at the computer screen seven years ago, 14 years old and ritualistically clicking through my stash of nat jpgs.