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.

Merlot and Dr. Pepper

So I didn't get a synthesizer.
Bummer, but I went to Steve's today to check out the sales for this generous day that is boxing, day and wasn't surprised. They cost more then Elizabeth's ass.
Maybe I'll just get a keyboard.
But, I got an ipod from the family. I've already lost a few. A pattern is occurring.
Went down to the market, all the best stores were locked. Got into a few, gave up and bought a burrito. The ultimate give-up.
That's been christmas. Mixed with a bit of redundant parties, some 20-some great aunts, and the best sweet potatoes freedom can afford and Christmas is just as glamorous as New York City's'.

Side note, Merlot and Dr. Pepper. Aces.

I was scared, for so long because I felt like that immaculate, uncensored, honest feeling of this season had outgrown me. When you're family doesn't laugh at everything you say because what you say isn't innocent, because they know you aren't oblivious, because they treat you like an adult because you are one. It really is the worst, when the people you thought loved you the most were so gentle and courteous because you were young, you were fragile. You're a young adult now you've basically been to Vietnam, Germany, and Iraq- your treated as a veteran. You know life sucks, they know it too, you mutually fall upon a silent agreement that talking for the sake of talking won't propel any of your conversations. So they ask,

"How's your acting going?"

"Good, really good. Doing the best I can."

"Oh of course, don't forget us when you're famous."

Clever.

And every single one of them means it differently when they say it. So it never dries.

And in the midst of those redundant parties with the great aunts and uncles, and my Merlot and Dr. pepper my little cousin grabs my arm and pulls me into the other room, and tells me to play with her.

"Play what?"

"Play!"

And I knew what she meant. And I told her we were in the jungle and we were hunting for treasure. And we had ballgowns on, and we had puppies, and the treasure would take us to Disney Land. And that lasted a good 30 seconds. Not surprisingly.

So now we're playing house. She's my dog, I'm her lovable owner.

And I'm watching her crawling on the ground and I'm looking out into the other room at the great aunts and uncles and I'm thinking.

They treat her like a princess. I know where she is right now, fuck it's the best feeling in the world when people fuss over you and give you just what you asked for. You get your synthesizer. She's only 6 but she will remember every single Christmas. Because everyone is here, because this is the only time she will get what she wants. She's forever away from having to make choices, having to suck it up and grow up.
And I want to leave her because I'm bored but I can't, because I have to give this to her, I have to let her play. No one else will, and I guarantee she will remember this Christmas for the rest of her life, because I gave her what she wanted. When you're young it's never the gifts you remember or when you're older, miss, but it's just when you're given more love then you will ever feel for the rest of your life. People can't help but love you when they know you don't know better.

That feeling will never leave her.

So I saw her, and I saw that point in my life in Aunt Dorothy's basement, and I surrounded by relatives I didn't know and didn't really care for but who loved me effortlessly. And I felt it all again. I think there's a lot you can let go of. Memories that will always leave you. These ones don't. Don't hunt them down and ring them dry. Just feel the wave when it hits you, for however many seconds that is.

Take away for Today:
Leah Hennessey and Max Lakner
http://babymanque.com/index.html

Man oh man.

sitting in the office.
i am. an intern.
freaks and keaners in and out. one guy has a necklace with winston churchill on it.
i need it.
xmas shopping done. bought a few unnecessary presents for people i wanted to cozy up to. and a few gifts for old reliable friends and confidants. even if our archieve of secrets is outdated.
i bought the office folk a new coffee pot. the old one smells like ass. it was needed. less of a gift and more of a I'm-worried-about-you-not-seeing-your-kids-graduate shpeel.
ben's coming in a bit. we're busing home. maybe get some caffeine.

(SMILE)


havn't had coffee all day and i feel like i'm going to start perspiring anger. it looks like tabasco sauce in my mind. if you needed a visual. smells like Lone Star restaurant.
but. i like being addicted to it. it's a mutual courtesy we both have. my body needs it to survive and it needs me to boast about it.
but black. black coffee. too much glam in a coffee is awful. my coffee is unshaven.
christmas break is here. i'm ready for the celebration. i'm ready to see family. and i'm ready to relax. something I haven't done in a while.
but have earned a new respect for.

take care everyone.
love.
SJ

"...and what her mind melts."

woke up at a party.
friend walks in the room and goes "shit someone wrote a novel"
he's holding a pile of post it notes.
here's what was written that night. in the raw. unedited. bear with the spelling.
i bet you feel special:

So she sat in the kitchen, Drinking black coffee, unsatisfied with the high. Caffine could stimulate her text, but not her libido. She was brilliant when she was drunk. Mindless in her reverse. Numb with diaologue. No one cares when your drunk. It's assumed your thoughts are manicured. Blanched with liquor - that ignites inhibition, honesty, and jealousy. So she relies on her pen to relieve herself in the midst of angst. Coffee and cigarettes a companion before the caloused hand of sober personel. People can only give you so much of what you already have. Problems you already had and have no time for. It's not nice to unsurface that old black and white childrens novel. You have wisdom thats too arrogent to enlighten and friends to stubborn to accept the voice of reason. Reasonably speaking - reason depends on the person. Coffee and cigarettes. Two of the greatest kicks you will ever be introduced to. You can feel sex in your thighs, man you can feel cigarettes in your calves. What 3:52 in the morning. Fuck steve. I'm smoking in the house. Everyone's asleep and she's drinking coffee and having the best damn cigarette she's ever had. Jessies neck is out, chen's being a friend, Liza ad Dodson are fucking and she's content. Lonliness is as asset. It teaches you to be realistic with yourself. Forces you to embrace shit and your own bullshit. Bordum can lead to great things for an artist. Take me. Had friends who worshipped the bible and played truth or dare at birthday parties. Now she's fucking every week, addicted to caffine, and drinks brandy to relieve emotional instability.
But thats the cost of beauty.
Fuck.
Dropped the cigarette in the noodles. What the fuck. Can't even flick a fucking ash and its in the noodle sauce. Fuck it it taste fine.
The sound of hot ash hitting a wet surface.
Ace.
5:59
4:00
Perfect.
Even. Even numbers fuck me up. What wants to be even. Being fair is bullshit. Why not fondle rucass. Being even has never taught anyone anything. The joy of winning, the mediocrity of falling just short. Never created war, never introduced democracy, or flaws in communism. Games, gambling, drinking, anorexia, divorce. Being even is the end all be all of history.
Being even to others will never introduce humour. We all fight to be more interesting that others, to impress. If we're all even then we're stationary. Everyone might as well be friends. Again, bullshit.
Smoke in the eye.
Balls.
Blinking it out. Gone. Thank Christ.
Stabs the cig in a wet plate.
Hisses.
Cat ticks behind her against the tiles.
And she wishes she had someone to come out and watch her. Someone who cared about her. Who understood and got her art. dillusional art. Who she could play demure to but really by super fucking flattered they showed up and started a conversation dispite sleep sickness at 4:07AM. She wishes that person was reckless and impulsive. A night and morning person. Had a taste for everything. Respected their parents but found away around guidelines.
And she's at a loss.
She doesn't wish she was prettier, she just wishes she had less pimples. She doesn't wish she was skinnier, she just wishes she had a better metabolism. She just wishes, fuck, a guy or girl could read her mind and share her electricity for life. Pessimism is old and 90s and Nirvana. She just wants to live the best life she can and won't let a bad moment or money or disbelief inhibit her from running as fast as she can. High. Down a street. Covered with trees. Alone. Dodging. Hitting branches. Getting scarred. Acknowledging the blood. Making her self better. Learning. Moving on. Craddling every moment as a chance experience. Pure oxygen.
No. No one will ever understand that.
Ever.
It's too real.
And we're 17 and we live in disney. And we're trying to find ourselves and we live in a fog of opportunity and personalities and no one knows what belongs to whom. But She does.
She's found hers. And she's lonely. Because the ones she loves will only find it in another few years. And she'll have to live alone that much longer. Perhaps a change of scene will spark a new title of bodies. Who may know her, and what her mind melts. But who knows.
No one knows how to chase what they love.
She will chase it until she is blue in the face. Until she is crucified.
Know what you love, love what you do and do it for the rest of your life. That's real. That's adolesence. Not trying to escape your house and find yourself. You've already found yourself, the next step is embracing it.

-**********
4:19
Dec/2009

take away for today:
www.brettisagirl.com
awesome artist. my favourite is togetherness. i bought a few prints for my friends this xmas.

A Mantra

he's on the phone as i type. fiddling with his guitar. i'm hunched over cradling the phone between my left shoulder and ear. i tried speaker phone but its harder to hear the movement on the line and he's on speaker phone as well so the quality is less than spectacular.
i shouldn't have poured an entire cup of tea. i'll never finish it. its unrealistic. i eat fast. i digest fast. i focus on eating when i eat. i drink slow. drinks are special. food sits there. your aware that it is now apart of you or rather than your absorbing its beneficial nuances. liquids, are ghosts. your aware of its presence and warmth (or chill) as it reacts on your pallet and down towards the core. but it is without body. it is substance without matter. although science tells us otherwise, the only place we feel the drink is when it punches you later in the bladder. you don't know what you've gained from it until the doctor checks your blood later. Be it good or bad. I enjoy the moment. I enjoy the pace. I become aware of what's around me when i drink. It's eased tempo allows me to take the time to enjoy whatever is in front of me and not beyond me. Things i'd miss if i was eating, because eating is a race to satisfy.
i live fast. i react fast. i am fast in wit and fast in processing.
i exist slow. i love slow. i grow slow.
quite honestly
i'd rather drink.

Take away for today: www.cr8apes.com
DJ mixes posted. Fun for parties. Or alone time.

Suck on THIS Entrepreneurship '09!

There's a lot of immaturity in trying to be mature.



There's an abandoned farm about a 10 minute bike from my house. It's stationed on an old, swervy, no side-walk road across from my high school. By abandoned I intend to mean owned by land relaters hoping to make a new suburban jungle and is visited by one of the later owners family members occasionally. To make sure no one is throwing parties on the property. I've only been there twice but I feel like it's mine. Mine and my friends. It's quiet and precious. And while it's lonely abused atmosphere may make a a good haunted facade, it feels safe. I don't feel like there are dead bodies, lingering spirits or bad imprints. I feel like I need to explore. Do crazy shit. A place to have your first kiss and get felt up. I want to read mark zusack there. play baseball. run through the generous property. It's the cliche of the childhood theme "nothing lasts". I know it will be gone eventually, and i won't be devastated but i will cry. I don't know why yet but i will genuinely be moved by some currently-incomprehensible emotion. It's the loss of a life long dream. The need I've always craved for adventure and danger and discovery.
I feel like the freedom we gain there has a price. Something will happen and we'll pay for being too happy. Happiness is a sin. We lose sight of the immediately pertaining issues and reality when we drown in bliss for those moments. So very few of them. It's where we only speak about dreams, about others, about ourselves like no one can hear us. It's all very selfish and immature, but one can't go on living awaiting the day when the mechanics a line and you're sudden an adult. common sense no longer beneath you. There's a lot of immaturity in trying to be mature. We deny ourselves of experience and learning. The powerful surge of adrenaline in the face of danger. We suppress inspiration if our common sense calls it impossible, unattainable and incomprehensible. What the hell have we created when our children are forgetting to be children? Fear adventure because they may be scolded for improperly using their time? Ignore adventure because it's useless? Life might as well be abandoned. If the worry comes from one's physical and emotional health being at stake then they might as well be dead. We're always under an attack. And it's that prodding that makes us say "EN GARDE!". Forces us to be courageous and innovative. confident and imaginative. It's the fun that we have and the risks we take as kids that dictate the open-minded adults we become. I've seen the people who don't. My business teacher. Bad posture, doesn't look people in the eye, his attempts at hiding his lack of self-confidence makes him look self-absorbed. Clearly watched CBC news and played pong, masturbated to Lisa from weird science and ate white bread and butter sandwiches.

Take away for today: If you can get your hands on it before it leaves the shelves
UK's LOVE magazine sent Starworks’ Greg, their Senior Fashion Editor Francesca Burns, photographer Bruce Weber and designer Alexander Wang around the globe to find extraordinary talent and personalities under 21. Great read. Awesome articles. Cover's no names, to notable bloggers such a julia frakes and tavi, to more celebrity status performers.
http://www.thelovemagazine.co.uk/

Never give, Undone

Wow
I haven't written in a couple of months. Though I don't feel guilty.
I've been a busy fucker.
I'm struggling to get over vocal fatigue. I'm slowly teaching myself to rest. Which is difficult. I'm not truly happy until I have my hands full. I panic when I'm unoccupied, when I have time to relax. Not necessarily time to myself, I have time to waste. But time to sit down, watch re-runs, do nothing. I like crafts, but only when I'm bored. I like biking, but only when I'm bored.
Things to satisfy my stigma to swell the vacancy the that exists in my day.
I will push my body. I want to be physically and intellectually swollen. I want to have discovered something colourful. Within myself or outside. Exhaust all protein.
My subconscious and my libido work in a kinship. I lust for most things. People, food, adventure. I lust for self-understanding, and self-admiration.
I'm far to critical of myself. But perhaps that's the only way one can grow. One should always dislike something about what they've done. One should search for the flaws in their work. That is when we begin to seek improvement. We become more involved in what we do. We lust for critical respect. People who pride their work will never become more than what they are. Those is see the imperfections in the makeup will always grow, be humble, and continue to impress others.
Self doubt will flower excellence.

take away for today: http://www.flickr.com/photos/scotchsofa/page1/
someone who knows how to have fun. doesn't take herself too seriously. grows with every moment of her life.
sees a mistake as a masterpiece.
we need more people like this lady.