a view of Bohemia

Cesky Krumlov

grilled

he doesn't have a soft mouth.
but he asks interesting questions.

on airplanes

I'll remember you like a lover.
The straight of your nose.
The small of your teeth.
The u at the corner of your mouth.

my new friend's old friend

The night after the cold, cold movie I went out for drinks with old friends and a new one. He's over 29 so f'gedaboudit. (I'm soooo lying...we'll see).

In his east side, socially conscious sweetness, he gave someone who's freelance career was not proving to be as profitable as ours, some coinage. A few blocks later we ran into another down-and-outer. But this one proved to be my new friend's old friend. He has cancer. Lymphoma. The old friend. And plays the spoons exceptionally well. Despite this, the prognosis does not look good.

And so because I never give people on the street money, I gave him my movie pass from the night before. I think he really appreciated it.

I'm glad I pointed out to the manager how cold the theatre was. The old friend's experience will be much more enjoyable as a result.

laughing awake

I had a funny thing happen to me. It was funny. Really funny. I made myself laugh in my dream and it's really, well, confused me? No, not really confused. More befuddled me. For a few days now. Everytime I think of it, laughter burbles up. It's just so god damn goofy.

I was dreaming, nothing special, meaningful or particularly entertaining for that matter. And yet even beginning to write about it makes me chuckle. No guarantees on your experience. It may be one of those "you had to be there" kind of things. Which would have been difficult as it was a dream, unless you were my lover, I suppose. But then you'd only be wakend to see me giggling low into my pillow with my eyes closed. Which might not endear me to you.

So, dreaming away. There were three of us. We each asked/said something and despite going over and over it in my dream in order to remember all three things said I only remember the first one, "Tight skis".

That's right. The person said "Tight skis".

I have no idea.

But followed by the two other things, one of which I said, I began to laugh, chuckle, almost uncontrollable and soon enough I realized I was awake, laughing, awake. And yet laughing in my dream at the same time. It was a very strange experience.

And I kept making a conscious decision to go back and re-dream the funny bit, trying to imprint the phrases into my conscious mind, which made me laugh even more so. It was like I kept floating back and forth through a veil, laughing all the way.

I even remember hearing the low burble of laughter as I felt my head on the pillow.
Weird.


But funny.
Very funny.

One more thing.
I went to a movie tonight and it was freezing in the theatre. Freezing. I had a hat on, a scarf a coat and a cozy coat. Still freezing. It was so cold I started to hibernate and missed about a half hour of the show.

Anyway I was trying to decide whether to complain or not. I mean really, those attendants, they don't care. They'll never see you again and so they don't even try. But sitting on the toilet, I really gave it some thought and decided well perhaps the cumulative effect will have some, you know, effect. If enough people drop a penny in the bucket, soon you have five bucks.

So I left the toilet and there was someone in a suit in the cinema foyer. He must have some power, I thought. I approached him and related my tale. I thought it better not to ask him to feel my nose, which was freezing, just freezing. It might have diminished the seriousness of my complaint.

Anyway, low and behold, he took me into the theatre to confirm my story, agreed with me and said he'd have it looked into. He asked if I had enjoyed the movie, nonetheless, and I told him I'd fallen asleep during part of it because I was so cold.
So he gave me a free pass.

Hmm.
Perhaps there's a moral to all this...



...I can't think for the life of me what it is.

But "tight skis" to you all!

Tarifa, Spain

one less degree

I'm meeting a friend at an art opening later.

A couple of years ago I'd been the subject of a little art video she'd made. It was part of a video installation that would be situated in two rooms. She'd told me the video was now up on her website. After clicking my way through I finally got a holistic picture of the scope of the piece she's working on. Big.

I decided see which other friends she'd made into art.

The mentioned actor below.

I followed a link to his website, what was up and coming in particular. And there, one click away from an item about the video installation was the image from the newspaper this morning.


It's been raining all day. Gushing.
There are many gallery openings tonight.
I need a bigger umbrella.

snap shot

I'm looking at a picture of Alan Cummings and Alex Kingston, on a film set, somewhere in America. The picture is in the Sunday New York Times (which I have hand delivered....by a virgin, single mother, immigrant).

This world is funny. If these two people were to speak of Vancouver, the place where I house most of my clothes, they may eventually come to mention my me. I am connected to each them by one person. There has been sex involved. And yet they stand there in their filmic self-importance, not realizing the golden coin (me) which has passed through their respective purses. And they'll never know.

This seems to be the hallmark essence of my Zelig-like existence. Always "the friend of" never "the Friend".

time to dream of bohemia

this city condenses me.
like living in a room with a really, really low ceiling.
I have to fight for internal space. fight not to let petty concerns crowd my internal landscape, like bad rental furniture.

being away, and away is only "away" I know because I don't live there, being away, bohemia is a life, a way of being, daily action. being here, bohemia is a condo complex on 6th.

oh, good grief. I sound depressed. I'm not. it's just time for bed.