the other day, txts frm lst nght said this: "found a dugout with weed in it in dad's car. decided to top up the weed compartment with salvia. for fun." i'm horrified. been horrified since i read it, so much so that i copied+pasted the text for future contemplation/discussion. i tried salvia divinorum in d.c. wanted to try it again but never did. too scared, not because it was bad, but scared in a way that tells me nobody should ever sneak salvia into someone else's consciousness. it should always be voluntarily consented to. we did advance research and the stash came with instructions/warnings but in hindsight i didn't take on warnings about speed of delivery enough because 3-5minutes for the tiny dosage recommended (2hits; not even close to filling a pipe) just seemed impossible to my limited range of experience with drugs. it was more like 90seconds. hit me so fast i didn't know i was under the influence and freaked out about random shit before we knew what was happening. then the whole world was made of streaming yellow #2 pencils, myself dangerously included. as i sank back into the couch (and it felt like a neverending subsiding into eternal pillows) trying to suck o2 into my yellow-pencil-lungs the cartoon women on the tv became real, i suddenly had houseguests while i was high and the house was a mess and the world was made of streaming pencils except for the how clean is your house programme intro and i tried to interact with the ladies, then my brain exploded into light and i saw the answer to life, the universe and everything and it all made sense but by the time i had the prescence of mind to grab a notebook and writing utensil it was over, the room was its usual self again and i'd completely forgotten the vision. i felt like a part of my brain that had never seen light was briefly exposed and i desperately wanted to open it up again except that, strangely, the further the moment receded the more i felt the experience was like being hit over the head with a bag of bricks and i never gathered the right mind to approach it again. i wanted the answer but not the whatever-else-i-couldn't-put-my-finger-on bag-of-bricks part. now, of course, the post-strangeness has itself receded and i wish i'd had time to get past it and try it again before i left d.c. either way, setting somebody up to smoke what they think is grass but is actually salvia is fucking dangerous, especially if the stash in question's kept in the car- nobody needs to drive when being hit over the head instantaneously by a bag of bricks they expected to be a slowly-downward-drifting pillow. that's fucked up and dangerous. i had to say something, even if the right person never hears it. walk good.
grims left this morning. just called to say he on the ground in d.c. he'll be back for a few days before the end of september to pack+ship his shit, but this is pretty much it. i just finished cleaning house, dishes+laundry; new beginnings, ent? grims was good enough before he left to take some photos of my new tattoo- as always, designed+executed by the inimitable darren cheewah (on a sidebar near you). funny enough, i been meaning to show chee the website of this other tattooist (our meat is his) whose style i like partly because it's reminiscent of tim burton's sketches (shown us by paul roe who did grims' stunningink). haven't got around to showing chee dude's work yet but somehow he designed me something in similar style, enough so that i wasn't the only one who noticed. serendipitous: new ink like other stuff i like but still definitely 100% chee.i lovelovelove my new tattoo! big up cheewah biglove! (at least 1photo unsafe for work)...
me and my new ink will post photos soon. meanwhile, see cheewah on my sidebar... grims bought his ticket to leave me monthend; look like my free papers coming via snailmail... by september it will be a whole new life, while working towards 2-3 shows and the book project (settled this morning, at least i have work). now i need to step up the search for a new home+headspace... allyuh better watch allyuhself- ah comin... walk good.
my father drove today and i realised i've been holding my breath. work hard to make connections with others while preserving privacy, self-protection the strongest instinct. want intimacy without vulnerability. substitute sex for love not just in the unknowing way of youth but in the way experience slickly compromises, tricking emotion. sometimes admit to self what has become the default operating system and that true experiences only come with truth, and pledge to give more fully, more honestly. make a go of it, later finding self bruised again but hopefully after enough good to recognise the value of allowing someone in, even at the price of inevitable heartbreak, because nothing lasts forever, except possibly love of loving each other. walk good.
rehearsing every night (except 1, thus far) sometimes more than one show/night for the past few weeks, between the canals' freedom.com and the upcoming continuum dance project. freedom was bes' and in spite of the stress of still having a solo to learn and another to finish choreographing (presumably learning through process) for this weekend, i'm excited for continuum. after that, i lucked into arlene doing 2weeks of technique classes so i keep dancing between continuum closing and starting rehearsals again for our queens hall performance in october, plus aunty noble's classes pick up in september- so happy to keep dancing straight through, because last long vacation was a sad and weight-gaining time. plus, i new ink between the 2 continuum dance projects! in addition to upcoming shows (doh forget we have gutta beautiful to make, hopefully before year-end) i'ma help out some young visual artist friends who need people to sit for figure-drawing workshops, and depending on timing, will prob'ly make the gutta cast pose as well, as part of getting used to public nudity... plus, some stuff i been meaning to post so i can find them when i need a pick-me-up:
when i grow up, i'ma move like the uspdf 2009 championship girls:
and when i need something to move to (not that they need my press after receieving the colbert bump, but i love the sound)- swedish big band jazz hiphop:
and lastly, a joke that had us falling down when delivered by a lilliputian, mid-rehearsal; meant to write it down @ the time because it classic but think i didn't, and it's been such an unexpected hit of late that i must, but try to picture it delievered by a precocious 13-year-old: why it have no food in badman party?
because badman doh cater!
walk good. ps: i already chose my song for the burlesque show i intend to produce sometime after gutta beautiful, but definitely studying movits for a possible encore...aye, zed- burlesque? choreograph something, nah...
1 Comments:
Sounds scary as shit! I've never even heard of it!
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