Skip to main content


Picture taken this past summer..

I truly let loose in playing my according last night. I was looking for a bit of solitude in my room but Audrey wanted me to interact with her so I started playing my accordion. The sound of it captivates me. Expresses my emotions through random selections of notes, deep and mournful. It left me feeling open and exposed. I think I am going to go by the accordion shop between the U District and Wallingford and see if I can find a book that can teach me how to play. Then again perhaps knowing what I am doing instead of just the random notes will take away the musical connection I share with the instrument, as neither of us understand one another, but yet we can still make noises to comprehend emotion. Personification.

I can only hope that the roommate I will be assigned on Missoula won’t complain too much about the accordion. I’m feeling somewhat worrisome about being assigned a roommate on such few criteria. It will all work out, or so I keep telling myself.

I want to cut loose and dance until I can taste blood in my mouth.
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

French underworld tattoos at the turn of the century. The man sports a tattooed mustache intended to foil the prohibition of facial hair in the Foreign Legion. The World of Tattoo by Maarten Hesselt van Dinter. I can only dream of being anywhere near that combination of badass and crazy. Though at that point the Foreign Legion was probably still the best place for criminals to get their record cleaned so perhaps he is as well quite legitimately scary upon all of that. I find myself flipping back to this page time and time again to romanticize the French underground from around 1900. Give him an accordion, a beret, and some braces. Prostitutes who could easily kill you if you ever come up short and tattoo the names of their ‘actual’ lovers between their breasts, close to their heart. Tattoo ‘Je mother fucking t’aime’ in a tattoo cursive along my collar bones.
Post a Comment
Read more

Windy Coffee. [part 1]

Fulya was looking at my sketchbook the other day and remarked that she liked the random sketch that I had made of some girl that I saw walking along with a little plastic cup of coffee during the wind storm a few weeks past. As I still have some small pieces of very good watercolor paper [that I had sized to be used for some small frames I had collected but did not have anything to put in them yet], I thought that perhaps I could transfer a little sketch to a little piece of paper to play with techniques. Namely the layering of water colors. Something that I know I have been working on a lot, but practice makes perfect. I also wanted to see how using my new mechanical pencil filled with blue graphite would work in hiding my lines as I initially worked. I forgot to take a picture of the transition between not having the girl inked at all to inking her and starting the background. I was having a hell of a time trying to figure out a setting in which to put her. At first I was th...
Post a Comment
Read more
I took this picture shortly after moving out to Seattle. The pose seems to fit the picture I took just this evening fairly closely. Its kind of odd seeing my aging in this short while of living in Seattle. Random, but I saw Amaryllis today. I was working and I don’t know if she noticed me at all, but it was still one of those random shocks to see her. Its odd how it seems that the people here go in waves, where you can be friends with a bunch of people and just lose contact with them to meet another bunch of people. I hope I don’t lose contact with this last group of people. I know that I will to some extent with leaving for a year to two years, sadly, but I hope that I can come back and still have this nice base of people going on.
Post a Comment
Read more