Wednesday, February 24, 2010


I experience a little burst of optimistic extroversion about twenty minutes after I take Vicodin. I wish this feeling lasted longer. The chemical nature of the feeling intrigues me. Because it is a feeling... like a mood...not a sensation.

The aspect of my injury that is the most curious to me is not the pain, but the lack of strength...the weakness and the absence of a reflex in my right ankle. Several times a day, I try to stand on my toes. First I try the left leg, and I go up, almost bouncily. Then I try the right, and I wobble wobble wobble fall; I just can't do it. stand stand stand I say, and almost nothing happens. It reminds me a little of that feeling of trying to yell or talk in a dream. Those moments of sleep-space are interesting. Sometimes the desire to speak is so powerful that one wakes up mid-sentence.

I am told that I talk in my sleep often.

Time goes by, hazily. It is a February sort of way. Muffled, with narration.

This also means that I have had to take a break from the birds.

I've been thinking about fur. The next project involves fur, faux and otherwise. I cannot imagine wearing "real fur." When I think of it, I see flashes of Carrie covered in pig's blood. There is a sensitivity to it. It feels painful. "It hurts to look at you."

Monday, February 22, 2010

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Monday, February 08, 2010

Saturday, February 06, 2010

Thursday, February 04, 2010

"Perhaps I am not I even if my little dog knows me but anyway I like what I have and now it is today."

Gertrude Stein


came across this image & was struck by the way in which it is a sort of mirror inverse of the above pic of GS, ABT, and Basket. Thank you, internet, for the weirdness.

Delirious Hem

My post on feminism & poetry is up at Delirious Hem. I also share some items from my commonplace book: Women and animals: Are they real?

image: "Parts" by Lorna Simposn

Tuesday, February 02, 2010

Monday, February 01, 2010

is this real?