TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER
an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile
luvin' summer--or receiving a lotta unexpected luv, which is it? (You know who you are!) lately: fistfuls of just-picked cherries; the wind whipping up skirts to scandalously frothy heights; pastrami sandwiches from May's on Church and Market (like I told Niva, if I had to give up all meats but one, pastrami would be my keepers-always); mango and sticky rice at the Thai temple on Russell; 40s in Tilden Park after an embarrassingly unsuccessful attempt to score some weed--why oh why so shy, huh?; a secret garden of grass and wildflower, glimpsed through a bottle of beer, somewhere between glass and amber liquid; oh, and plans to 1) have a split zine with the lovely Annie; 2) have a writer's group with the stellar Ariana; and 3) start a Breathe Collective concerned with generating propaganda about, what else, breathing. Sometimes I forget to breathe properly--I can tell because I'm a tight ball of flesh and muscle, clenched for no reason at all except maybe because I'm so intent on the next place to go, the next thing to do. Motto of the collective? Inhale slowly, deeply. Exhale slowly, deeply. Daniel says that everyone with lungs are automatically in... Neat-o.