At some point this blog went from being about to angst to being about boys, but...  oh well.


Tonight I got a really nice cheek kiss from someone. And I gotta say, that's a respectable move. When it  comes to wooing people, waiting to bring out the big guns IS bringing out the big guns. That ain't no amateur hour.

Plus it was nice and Venus is in my sign and I feel like I'm thawing out a bit.

That world...

I wonder which are the best problems to have.  Perhaps it was easy to follow around narcissists as I had growing up. Their strange behavior leads to problems outside myself, that I mirror within myself.  They are discrete problems to trace and solve, gross and convex, intelligent and whipping around. Not oblique or universal, because they become projections and thus self-centered problems.  I can look within and see them do their work. 

Otherwise, I have to divine some meaning from either well-adjusted normalcy, or mysterious intellectual foffery, or my own stunning ability to fall short of my goals.

The artistic neurotic asshole narcissists, the self-loathing geniuses who make me feel more put-together than I am.  The people I can care for when taking care of myself feels like a dead motion of mere continuance.

I taste pointlessness and boredom in my mouth in the company of those I can't understand: whose problems are material and petty, or social and petty, said in a droll, resigned way.

And the hedonists drag others into their whirlpool of breaking even for its own sake.

I would love a consistent way of contributing to the world, where I'm not thinking of myself much but I'm still given recognition.  Projects.

Relationships were projects, but that's not all. Being stuck in the world of a funny, opinionated, smart, alert, nerdy, desperate, person...that was my theater for so many years. Not pleasant but it's where I felt real, where I felt needed.

Listening to someone practicing sitar music.

Raquel is with Dad. Nigel is with the Corderos.  Cleo is with WiFi and the pets in Davis.
Katy is with her family, smoking a blunt with Tony.  She asked me to pray that she stays home until her court date on January 14th.  I shall. I remember praying for her when her liver was failing; I prayed all night, I couldn't stop.  I think, even if I fell asleep, I only fell half asleep and kept praying.

Mom is with Shelley.  They are watching a movie. Mom is with her sister who might die soon; they are enjoying a movie together. It makes me so sad.

Ben just asked me if I want to come to Idaho.  I'm stewing over logistics a little bit... but boy, do I.

I am thinking of magical Solstice this morning. Deshlee muk shlacooyo.  Deshlee muk shlayayo..

He-he-he-he-he ungawah

And I'm going to dream of wine bottles. Oy, veigh!

LOVE POEMS

I

Strong-willed street cred
I shall achieve.
Menacing archer of hate-arrows
Undo my work
Dash my prospects,
But.
Floating in clouds?
Or underground?
Or reserved in my heart?
: The power supply
Of true love
The bud of an ancient fruit;
Gleaming
Vulnerable to frost
Sparkling in the sun
Torn from the branch of my soul


II

My love does not shy away
It does not cower, does not flee
My love has arrows in its skin
It has brick-and-mortar veins
And steel lungs
It has a limp, but it can run
And running, shed
Old skin


III

Silent alarm
still wakes me
Not listening
cannot absolve
me from responsibility
I learned that a long time ago
Try tearing the
sad
small
details
from my
strong
swift
life.


IV

Cold, grainy hands
Oatmeal complexion
Grubby tendrils of snot
Living breeches decency
Vanity is a mist
Surrounding the beating heart
Excretion is life
itself


V

 superior inferior
leading follows
cowering boldly
stunted growing
I live and breathe oxymorons
Into a tapestry of efficiency
A dappled banister
You can't wrap your arms around
You can watch rapidly shape-shift
 Looking like you
Hungry creature, you
Blind as the skin on your eyes
Yet all-knowing
Dead as the hair from your head
Yet all-feeling
superior inferior
leading follows
cowering boldly
stunted growing
I live and breathe oxymorons.

Fuck

Most of my creative effort goes toward living a functional, middle-class life--given a scattered, paltry legacy.

Today's horoscopes----all true.

Welcome, Margaux R:

to Your Daily Forecast for January 04, 2014

• Yesterday
• Display Date: 
   January February March April May June July August September October November December   1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31   2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013 2014  
• Tomorrow

• Your Summary Forecast
• Your Extended Forecast

• Charm City
  Sun Trine Jupiter
  Jan 03, 2014 to Jan 04, 2014
  
  On a scale of one to 10, your charm will top out at 99 -- somewhere between lethal and devastating, that is. There's nothing you can't have, but do be careful not to aim this potent magic at anything -- or anyone -- you really don't want to conquer. Overzealous fans can be so tiring!
• Love
  Jupiter Quincunx Sun
  Dec 29, 2013 to Jan 13, 2014
  
  You're tickled, delighted and amazed at your good taste. But leaving out a few choice details wouldn't hurt -- especially if you want to keep this intact. And you do.
• Energy
  Mars Semisextile Jupiter
  Jan 04, 2014 to Jan 08, 2014
  
  Having your feelings isn't an emotional indulgence. It's something that is necessary for your mental and physical health. If you need to, take time off -- and no major decisions.
• Career
  Pluto Square Mc
  Dec 08, 2013 to Feb 06, 2014
  
  A relationship issue could be problematic -- in fact, it may even drive a wedge between you and your life's goal. Choose sides carefully.

Your Daily Forecast by Kim Rogers-Gallagher

SATURDAY, JAN 4, 2014

Share with friends:

You may receive some kind of windfall today, Sagittarius. It may be that a rich old relative dies and leaves you some unexpected cash. Or perhaps an investment is paying off better than you dared hope. This is just what you need to perk up your spirits! Be smart about how you handle this money. Our suggestion is that you eschew short-term gratification in favor of long-term security. You'll thank us in a few years' time.

You have a clear sense of the future now and know exactly what you need to do to be successful. However, circumstances grow complicated if you run into an unexpected obstacle in your path. Managing the situation may not be an easy task, yet it's crucial to give it your best shot. Don't go for the quick fix today; instead, set your intentions on finding a lasting solution that works for everyone involved. Keep your chin up and your eyes on the horizon as you push to achieve your goals.

Today's Sagittarius Horoscope from Cafe Astrology

January 4, 2014

There is a strong emphasis on your personal life today, although not a lot of clarity. The need for extra reassurance and security figures strongly now, so much so that you might be opening yourself up to believing something that is unrealistic or simply untrue. While there is no need to be paranoid right now, do watch for hidden agendas today, as the tendency for people to skirt the truth is strong. As well, don't set yourself up for disappointment by setting too high expectations. An encounter or experience could deeply move you today. Even a show you watch on TV could affect you in a big way. You're especially emotional, which could include melancholy. Don't resist the tide of feeling that washes through you. That would be like trying to resist the pull of the ocean itself! An honest acceptance of your true emotions can lead you toward greater self-understanding, and that's a journey you'll surely embrace. Bigger actually does seem better today, but the danger is that your current optimism might inflate a balloon well past the danger point of popping. Even if you believe you know when to stop, you still may realize that you've pushed it just one breath too far. Of course, once the balloon pops, you can't put any air in it at all. It's best to operate with a touch of caution sooner than to be sorry later. Talking yourself down from a tree is virtually impossible, Sagittarius, but thank goodness you have a strong support network around you. Saturday’s moon-Neptune meetup could send you down an emotional rabbit hole. Feelings you tried to talk yourself out of in the name of being “positive” bubble up to be dealt with. One caveat: the raw, first cut at these DO contain truth but they’ll also be rather exaggerated. Call an emergency brunch with your Sex And The City posse and let them bring you back down to earth. After that, it will be easier to figure out next steps. On Sunday, do some financial planning with an eye towards austerity. Some belt-tightening is in order to get yourself back on solid ground. While you may have to delay a larger purchase, this is also motivation to ramp up your earnings. Is it time to raise your rate, Archer, or sign up for some training that can put an extra zero on your salary? Fill out paperwork and tie up loose ends. If you need to work out a payment plan, it’s better than ignoring a bill.

What about...

The tea leaf reader at last year's holiday tea predicted I would meet a boy.  "Don't let him distract you from your work, it's very important." she said.  I wondered who she meant, half believed and half didn't.  But it was possible.

This was my crite sheet for Sculpture, my only class:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Course: Sculpture II -- Professor: Ganzglass, Marc --   Student: Margaux Robles Final grade: C --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mid-term Comment: From the first day Margaux has been a vital member of the class, not just contributing to discussions and work in the studio but actively adding to the direction the class itself is taking. She is a great observer and seeks out experiences and unexpected opportunities within each assignment. Margaux is highly motivated and will really benefit from engaging in in-depth and expansive projects. --Mid-term Grade A- --Mid-term Absences: 0   -   Final Comment: Margaux began the semester strong but then seemed to let off the gas mid-semester. She had interesting ideas for projects but then either compromised them or scaled them back too much. She still contributed in class conversations and studio work but the disparity between her engagement there and the work she did on her own time was palpable. Her positive energy was noticeably absent from the final critique. --Final Grade C --Final Absences: n/a

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I started hanging out with Ben in mid-November, spending most days with him until the last day of class.  I worked on my owl until after it was due.  I did not even put the finishing touches when Ben drove me to the train station to leave town. This is actually happening.  Should I stop it?  Can I stop it?  How?  I am currently rather tipsy, and trying to get a simple thought on paper, but it sounds like a genuine worry. It isn't.

Parties with myself

Parties with myself

I dress up
Makeup too

I play my techno music
and I dance.

Ode to the fallen

In Barrytown
where the bodies lay
I saw young Kate Blake's name today
What her brother saw of the dissonant display...
hatchmarks taking over the grey

In the artist's womb with his curls unbound
He heaved his last sigh into the ultrasound
What the midwife saw, the ghost had crowned!
Broken umbrellas all over the ground

In the studio with the hearts on the door
We looked for you there cause we wanted more
What I didn't know, your heart was sore
Paint brushes scattered all over the floor

They're writing songs to put in their halls
They're making art to put on their walls
One day we die one day we die one day we die BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO

The life in carpinteria was so strong. its best elements never died.

Smoking cigarettes,

listening

writing your thoughts as the street buzzes outside

well, what's better for you?

The hyper-valid productive motion springing from seething coils of popularity?

Or the unhampered valleys and stoops of virgin mind?  Swirling in its own presence, a swan

I malign and lose touch

I malign the seemingly benign and when the truth comes back

I hail its presence in my soul

Post office names

Sometimes I get post office names stuck in my head.
Tonight it's "Schiappassee."

[spring 11]

Recently I have recognized the descent of historical objects.  The things you once could freely visit but rarely did, now destroyed by earthquake.  The ancestors who planted food on the mountain you remember viewing through binoculars.  Our landscapes teem with sleepy memories, scraps of paper folded halfway into the ground.  We pick them up bit by bit--in the form of new things, like dirt and rocks, or in their old forms--pieces of pottery, stamped relics, photographs, tools, gravestones, bricks.  We have the written histories and the assurances of the previous generation, cupping their knowledge around our eyes.  It is a sheen, like powdery moth wings, calling attention to the sun striking us.  That eternal sun.  (Or is it?)

When a legacy becomes sacred, then dies in physical form, does the earth record its importance?  Is human memory in current, palpable form the only carrier?

Do extinct species live as ghosts?  Does it matter that we have taxidermied models to show us what they were?  Is a glimpse enough?  (A glimpse can greatly inform, I believe, if one really looks.)  When does the physical pass the torch to the metaphysical?  Do they pass the torch back and forth?

Shared experience is a true vial of the power to keep memories.  I think of people who lived with me during my greatest scenes.  They felt the power of the places that I, too, saw.  They filled me with love, and I filled them with love, and we received love from the entire landscape around us.  We even felt the same pain.  When I meet with them, we have--at least to some degree--a shared consciousness of these things.  And perhaps the physical impressions WE make, together or apart, spread some of that unique consciousness onto the earth to hold on as long as it can.

But I do truly love all the people and places I have met  in California.  I can recall those moments in an instant, and I have this inexhaustible appreciation for them.

The list is endless.  Just to think of my home in Carp, my schools, and the map spreads from there.  We really do influence each other.  What a great existence I have led (Margaux Robles and her mind, of course.) 

Granted, there were dark corners.  But I only walked away from those corners to bump into light, and so that's fine that they were there.



*Now all these thoughts make me wonder about working as a historical preserver.  The attachment weighs heavy when one chooses to fight that fight.  But one could also choose to enjoy the privilege of seeing history before it disappears from visibility, and celebrate that with others.


Museums:  Futile or crucial?
I say far more time-worthy than other commercial edifices.  I would go for it.
we dance with the ancestors one last time...

[nov. '11]

Just went out to the porch for a cig and a listen....maybe went too far.  What changed this time?  I think it was the fact that I played music.  I enjoyed first Radiohead album through my headphones.  Right before the last song I came inside to put on more layers.  When I came back out, I didn't like any of the music I listened to.  My focus deteriorated.  Then  Marina came outside mid-trill and asked me to stop singing.

Eh, time to go in.  I came back in and saw a text from Marnie:  "You singin' on the porch, lady?"

It's funny how I get angsty at the change of the wind.

Oh, crap, now Kat smells smoke.  How come this didn't happen last night when I stood outside under the sky with my Nat Shermans? 

Now I feel like taking a shower and washing it all off.  Washing what off?

Frustration.  Exasperation.  The feeling of  trying too love myself.  It is true, close love has not reached its fingers towards me today.

[everyone has the mundane]

everyone has that aching itching inside of them, and they scratch they howl, right to the apartment rooftops, to the moon.
canyons are crevices
and crevices are canyons

need structure

 I'm treading on foot through a field of contrived fluff, the waste of the productive life of the campus; the visible detritus of living breathing action.  But I am distracted by this, consumed by this.

The more that's in front of me the more my brain just fucking freezes.  I can't swim my way through the vast expanse of time.  I can just sit there witnessing it from moment to moment, wasting and wasting.

My hair looks good, Vince is on the mend, hiding in a bush.  A greasy middle-aged dude sits with his friend in the shopping strip, singing the Hawaii Five-O theme song.  The usual Davis heat seems to have left us today and I feel great after staying up all night reading The Orchard and sleeping two hours.

Today

Today brown spider spinning
Carpet foam
If matchbox barrier is open coffin
Open pink
mouth of a Vincent Noir
tiny tiny claws
Shiny racket of furry eyes
uh-oh
Dear me. He's taken it
shuddering to esophagus
antechamber
to illustrious caustic gallery
swim, spider, swim

AHAHHAHAHAHAH

YOUR VOICE IS A LIKE A FUCKING BALM
IT'S A MAGIC SPELL


AHEH WHY WHY WHY

I DISRUPTED THE PURR.  AN ENGINE BARKED

OH NO!

but but but your voice!

IT'S A FUCKING BALM IT'S A MAGIC SPELL RECORD IT INTO A VIAL
AND SPILL IT ONTO MY RADIO CHILD

Let's speak to each other through slits in our side glances.

We stick to music,
march with it in our breasts
Fused around our chests
Never release the absolute
fierceness.

Music will dab our sweat
It will rustle the feathers in the heads of indolents
Take it, use it, give it back to the mind
and let the sun fry you until your lungs give out.