working as the “Documentation Specialist” at smARTworks is a confusing job when it comes to fashion. While I will be wearing this violet lazer-beam number for a month during the actual summer-camp hours, I have found myself in limbo about what is “acceptable” to wear in a work-place, even at an art-school during the prep weeks before/after. Should i lean on the scandalous office attire (which seems to be the only work-friendly clothes I brought) Or thrift new unquestionably decent granny clothes (which I love, but all of which I have left behind in LA.) This question has undoubtedly changed the way I look at things when Ive been in thrift stores over the past month. I now notice a lot of cheap posh “work-clothes” that I never gave a second glance to before, and I cringe at the thought of being shackled to a career that would judge me for having holy leggings, or (god-forbid!) not wearing a bra. What kind of world do we live in where the physical manifestation of corporate exploitation is more acceptable than a hole in your socks?
Posted June 29, 2014 at 12:29am
seven of pentacles.three of pentacles.nine of cups.
communication.trust in our potential.future collaborations.
Posted June 19, 2014 at 1:51am
song in progress:
the desert sets his hair on fire
naked at the door made
of old barbed wire
lots of places dreamt of seeing
here in the cave
of moonshine whispers
standing in a dress of
shallowed shadows
blood on the legs
with boots so broken
words are vague
but dont stop walking
here in the city of
dust and rubble
told to be free
but the land is
shackled
try to break out
and the animals
laugh loud
lovers hold the devil closely
speaking tongue
to sound less ghostly
while fools swing across
rickety swings
sleeping in bodies
promised to leave
yes, were traveling
through the valley of death
with flowers and bones
tied to our wrist
sleeping in bodies
we promise to leave
the circus of circles
the laughter of kings
star. devil. lovers. ace of wands.
fool. queen of pentacles. two of cups. wheel of fortune.
Posted April 22, 2014 at 2:12am
There is no fire at the gates of pearl-
His black hair like a tumbleweed of silk
like flames in heaven
like frozen smoke
His eyes of swimming horses
forward steady and soft
like river whispers
at the wolf harbor
boots on, singin
Posted April 10, 2014 at 4:07pm