Update: Warm Things

Etsy Buy Handmade BloodtoBloom

I have been curating an Etsy shop for a few months now, with little ceremony. (http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodtoBloom) Vintage goods: primarily clothes, shoes, general adornments; and also a few things that I've knit.

I fear I might be bad at it, every article I've posted thus far has felt like an experiment; I've stock piles of things to hock, but have difficulty translating the charm of the item to digital.

Part of the problem is that I model them. I'm unsure of how to hold my face, I move too much, and am particularly unsuited to display a garment as, in life, something gets lost in translation between myself and those whom I am "showing" something to. It would be hard to explain. 

But, between the lighting experiments, and the facial fails during photographing, I've acquired a modest gallery of unsettling self-portraiture that I would really like to do something with- the Something I'm not sure about, a photo album for posterity maybe. All I know is I want this to be my physical legacy. 

  

And this: 

Also it seems like I have to start blogging about stuff that I sell on Etsy if I want anybody to buy it. I am trying.

   

The day after tomorrow I go to Northern Idaho, where my Dad grew.

It looks just like this.

I have a slew of cousins approx. my age there that I have little to no connection with, save Facebook updates. Most of them are married, have children; and either think I'm weird, dull, or put on airs. My grandparents grow increasingly distant.

All the same, I think family reunions are just fine, and I look forward to mashing my feet into the sludge of Lake Coeur D' Alene.

Sometimes I'll be trying to write something lucid for record's sake, to the point, and a stronger phrase will keep repeating itself, just to annoy my process.

Right now it's: "Look at Me" X's 35.

I will make this, somehow.

I don't want to die, I want you to kill me.

I bought these.

Today I feel warmth towards man kind. Do you ever have days like that? I don't know where it comes from.
I do, occasionally. It's an amazing feeling.
Do you think there are people who feel this way all the time?
without question, yes.

"I would hug you, but I can tell you don't like to be touched."

Black back-drop, white wig, spotlighting.

Missed Connections.

A text message:

"Sophie was kissing my screensaver yesterday."

I want go home.

M.J.

Poor Baby.

"Fashion Blogging"

Is becoming inescapable in my internet orbits, and starting to mildly repel me from some of the things that I love... in turn, it is hurting my immortal soul.
Though they're touting their own personal fashion, this is exactly how everybody across the globe begins dressing similarly.
Trends: a voluntary slavery and curse that we are all susceptible to.
I hope for a day when apparel preferences will stop being inseminated into our subconscious, and return to more of an intimate ramble through our own experience and will; and of course regional anthropology, which is unavoidable.

Anyhow, that's all pretty dramatic, but it's how I feel right now.

Never looked better.

1. Lay waste,
2. spread thin,
3. make scarce.

Sometimes a rhythmic thought will come to me, many words in length, and be immediately memorized and refuse to leave, carrying with it force and suggestion of importance.
An incantation? And what do I do with it?
Allow it to echo, and gain momentum and strength til it wreathes my brain; an impotent exercise with no known outlet.
But in finer news, this woman pleases me.

If I could smile like this.

"I will beat you till the bones come through your hide."

Well of course I have a problem.
My father had them, my brothers have them.
But I would like to take a second to salute the long-legged woman of the world. You have no idea what you do to us. Or maybe you do.
I overheard the 50+ year old security guards reflecting on their Kindergarten experience, and it was heartening to know that perhaps I will always retain nostalgia for my very early experiences, and not just adjust to those 15 years in my relative past.
Meanwhile I was knitting in the lobby and received several pleased expressions. It makes people happy to be reminded of certain paling banalities.

VP

Some divine will, yet to be determined, is haunting me with Virginia Poe.

Visually flippant, I saved this photo on my desktop last week with little thought, and since then: 3 different references to her have been made to me personally.

KD

Now you're turning slightly brown

MW

Cause you're a split-personality
(split-personality)
And in reality
Both of them are you
(They both are you)
We can't change (they're you)

Well how pretty.

Won both, for $.99.

Oh girly pursuits, when will you let me be.

Too many flip off's.

I've had a mildly broken (?) middle finger for some time now.
It's painful, but I don't know how it happened, so I haven't brought it up.

I can't help it.