I am Elvis, Luke, Donald and Tilda.

I saw the Born Ruffians for free last night.
Fucking amazing.
I don't know what it was, I think the bass drum was mic'd really well, but York St. erupted into curtains of hair stiffening noise. There was like a wall of illuminant, cracking heat inside my chest. So hot in there!
I was turned on and aggressive. And I just wanted to dance.
I fucking danced like Donald O'Connor.

Luke Lalonde's hair inspired me. His hair and his Elvis jig.
To be frank I look like a boy. I have breast smaller than an A cup, no curves, good eyebrows (they're the shit), and I have a passionate heterosexual appreciation for women.
It was short on the sides, long on the top.
Just an idea.

In my efforts to become effeminate I've become more masculine. Between exercising and dressing well, my breasts have shrunk from weight loss and I've adopted a collection of tight fitting pants and doc martins.
I applied to La Senza, Aritzia and Jones of New York.
I got accepted at Laurier Optical.
I've already begun without conscious care, but to look my best I figure I must be clean cut. No floral. I feel more confident when I'm wearing well fitted simple clothes. And short hair.
Tilda Swinton, yes?
Exactly.
She's been an icon of mine for years, but I appreciate her appeal more than ever now-a-days.
Here's a great interview with her from Bust Magazine's music issue.

Take Away for Today:

Tilda Interview from Michael lavine on Vimeo.

Alice's Clockwork

I'm not a very big fan of Alice in Wonderland. I actually don't like it at all. I think it's been overproduced and over conceptualized. The eccentrically whimsical story has lost its innocence. Once that aspect of literature is lost, it's not longer a story.
But, to contradict myself, I stumbled upon this silent film version of Alice on youtube and really enjoyed it. It made me feel the way, I suppose, a story like Alice's should. Mesmerized and a little disturbed. And it's always intriguing to see how the filmmakers of that era gave life to such abstract and challenging ideas.

Take Away for Today:

If I Had A Heart

There are feelings I experience that I can't attach to emotion or feeling. They are an integral part of my being, but are indescribable and unachievable. They come without warning, with certain loyal triggers. They culminate a part of me that is deep beyond my face and my person. It is beyond being human. There's another element to it.



Small wonder the post-natal period proved so fertile. She composes best in that state any new parent will recognise, awake but exhausted, where reality blurs into imagination and ideas flutter in and out. “Half of what the songs are about is the subconscious,” she says, “ideas of things happening. A lot of it is like daydreaming, dreaming when you’re awake, but tired; a lot of stories come from that world. I try to write when I‘m in that state - I’m very bad at remembering later, so I have to do it right away.” - http://feverray.com/biography/

What a beautiful way to say what's always been on the tip of my tong.

Peter told me

i lost a lot growing up.
i lost a lot using fuel, using my legs, abusing my hands. touching things i shouldn't have and lingering too long against a surface. a texture. rubbing it every which way. i don't linger there to tease anyone, i promise. i just want to understand it more, i want to feel it and show it i am one of it. sometimes it reads differently. i am not a public person, i am not an opinionated person. i am soft spoken and lonely. angry, jealous, needy, spoiled and have not learned my lesson. because i haven't really been hurt.
i don't let my cuts heal. i don't tend to them one at a time. i'll cut myself in a different place to distract myself from the pain of the first.
i'm too young. i'm far too young. and don't allow myself to feel the sum of my age. i'm trapped at the fist of puberty. i don't know who i should become now. i have not recessed, i just haven't allowed my character to age. i've grown, i've learnt. but i've learnt as a youth. and the youth that is me will criticize and learn, but never fully experience the indulgences and sophistication of an idea as an adult. i'll never be wise to my own thought or speak with whim. repeat matter-o-factly or conquer an idea. hand over advice because i do not feel the seniority too.
i'm trapped inside a world much smaller than the one chartered.
i will always be a boy. and have fun.
i will always stay young and continue to flee.
be ignorant of men, money, and guns
stubborn to impress, love as freely as a bleed.
walk between worlds, weightless from its tons.
naked and unscathed, not knowing i am free.
pouring sweat into a glass, as i've titled my death cup
i want to grow up
i want to grow up

Take Away for Today: When I Grow Up - Fever Ray
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4F-CpE73o2M

it scares me. there's something really familiar about it. i just don't know what.

Final Fantasy

Rollerskate home, cook a big pot of pepper soup and bake a strawberry rhubarb pie. Then I’m going to put on Felt’s “The Splendour Of Fear” and watch the sun go down from the roof of my house. Then I’ll play my violin until my baby comes home.

says Owen Pallet.
I told my friend I wish people always spoke like that. She replies, "if everyone did, then we wouldn't have people like Owen, and the fantasy wouldn't exist."
wise woman.
There is a modesty and eloquence in a person who chooses to live a frank and mild life. The amateur and muse who flirts with culture, but who is on better accord with themselves. Occasions are not essential, and they are alien to schedule. Nothing requires anniversary, why repeat the past.
I get lost in my head much too often. Forgive me, I'm a Pisces. It hurts me as much as it entertains me. My placebo reality.
So my friends are beginning to get their acceptance letters for university. They're growing up fast, becoming actual adults and holding firm to the steady relationship with their ripened selves. I'm in a state of retrogress. I keep saying goodbye to patterns I find in my personality and starting binge romantic relationships with new characteristics.
Today I dressed up and biked to the market. Bought some coffee and flowers for mama.
I was in France.
I went to the apothecary and bought essence of lavender/vanilla/honey/rosewood.
I'm going to being to create my own perfume.
I'm beginning to realize that my imagination is only as vague as how aggressively choose to embrace it. I'm gung ho. I accept that I wish and fantasize more than I act. I have a trunk of persona's to pick from, a well of out-fits, and a pocket size portion of patience. I used to fear change, but as I've grown I see that my old pants don't fit as well as these new ones do. So I choose to live in my disillusioned world and choose to actually act on my impulses rather than cope with the idea of doing it. I'm not too fond or good at coping. With every new activity I take up I achieve a new piece of wisdom for my arsenal.

Individuation is giving up. There's too much to discover about yourself to be fully self aware. I think its impossible. And that's OK.
When there's an end in sight then the work you do is to achieve that one goal.
When you have no end, no goal, your work becomes your life. it is not a necessity but a series of choices. and your live life to fulfill every moment, to find consistent happiness. Live simply. You don't push or try, because you simply realize that you must exist. one shouldn't be consumed with writing a story.
Fuck you Jung.
I make my own archetypes. I live them.

take away for today:

http://www.howietsui.com/

an amazing illustrator/animator/artists
i have the privilege of seeing some of his new work this fall during the International Animation Festival.

Kitchens, Pool Rooms, Bathrooms, and Home.

I sit in the round with my friends.
Each glazed with a dewed morning gloss. A shell of dampened white glue. A translucent peelable haze that will flake as the day moves. They are transcendent, they are invincible, they are in love. They are shirtless, pantless, hairy, unshowered, sober, hungover, pale as the season. They are guiltless and impulsive. Patient and eagar to evolve into the next day with the history of the last. There's no shame in hook-ups, fucks, passing out, or reclusing. The next morning is limbo and vacant.
A shitless portapoty of opportunity.
Regardless of what the world wants to believe, we believe that we can only believe in each other. What others believe about us is never fully true, or perhaps we're never truly honest with ourselves. Perhaps we're ever changing. What others want is to believe we are real and we are right.
We are right because we've found our house. Our roof is our arms, our laughter, our screams. It is happenstances hiccup that led us to this community, but it is a community more unabashed, ever forgiving and wondrous than the one that held me in and out of the womb.
We're every fake, faux-pas, and quintessence.
We acknowledge that.
We've all absolutely fucked up to be in this position right now, but for what its worth, at this moment, all the wrong choices we've made are alright.
The door is open, a new folk walks in to an energy that is bitter as licorice, electric as pop rocks and wise as black coffee with cream.
We do not seek to change but to learn from each new person that comes into our lives. They help us second guess ourselves. A pair of new eyes to a habitat that may have routined itself.
So we sit in the round, and she unfolds a wad of post-it notes.
'Holy shit someone wrote a novel.' says a friend.
The lovers are chain smoking in the far right corner, a few are fiddling with laces and zippers, all are enjoying caffeine's detoxificating alchemy.
She crinkles the paper. Their ears are smart to the mornings sharp sounds. They cross their legs, stretch their legs, and listen.
She speaks what she's written.
They listen.
She finishes.
They smile, and politely nod and enjoy what they've heard. Without a moment they continue their previous occupations.
She smiles and folds her paper up.
No she doesn't need a critic, or glory, or respect. She needs a group of people who will just listen. She doesn't need decency, or someone to learn something to discover something about themselves.
A couple pair of ears, or one, to lend themselves once in a while is a gift in itself.
What great friends I have.

take away for today: http://www.myspace.com/acorntrail

a very talented young man I had the pleasure of collaborating with the other weekend.

Vegabond shoes

Some news.
I went to NYC this past weekend and auditioned for Juilliard.
Didn't get a call back.
Not bothered.
What an incredible experience. I have never met a more colourful, humble, and generous collection of students and faculty members. Going to the audition has given me much more respect for the school and their alumni. And for New York
My good friend offered me something to think about. She goes "If Juilliard wasn't in New York, would you still go?"
Quite frankly. I wouldn't.
The prestige and schooling that Juilliard would offer excites me, absolutely. But its that city that is the neon wig to the artists brain. It lurches with opportunity and equally so with the ability to burn you. But its the risk, and the luck that someone in that city might trust me with their script. Then by god, why not chase it. There's a point where you can be safe and smart, and then there's the necessity too need to be ruthless and courageous. Knowledge is important and so is skill, but if your not in a position and a place where luck can actually approach you, then your lost. Good training is the foundation, and then a profound understanding of the business is what lures chance. You need to know how to get there, you need to be at the lip of exposing yourself to a city that could be very dangerous but also grant you invaluable exposure and experience.
I have many more auditions to come. We'll see what happens.

Now I could bore you with what I ate, but i'm sure any sensible person has had cupcakes at magnolias. Instead, here's a new collection of fashion from complexgeometries. I was reaquainted with the designer when I stumbled into a small store in some god knows where location when my good friend (and Juilliard student) decided to take me on a tour of the city.

Take away for Today: http://www.complexgeometries.com/ And he's Canadian!

i wish i had money.