Mood: Pretty Damn Tough and Balmy
Drinking: Crystal Geyser, oh so delicious
It’s a balmy November afternoon, and if you’re going to ask how November can be balmy, you really must remember that I live in California. None of that snow-covered-climate business for me. Not anymore!
Anyway, it’s balmy and it’s sunny and there’s just the right amount of wind. It’s one of those days when you might start to think that you can jump off tall cliffs and float. Which is to say, you feel invincible. I don’t feel exactly invincible at the moment, since I’ve just consumed an entire roll of crunchy and delicious rainbow Sprees. So there’s a bit of a stomachache rolling in, and it’s enough to knock me down off of my uppity invincible pedestal. But it’s only knocked me down one level, down to pretty damn tough. So I’m feeling pretty damn tough and balmy all at once and apparently that is enough reason for a girl to get on her blog and babble incessantly.
Hey, I never promised that this thing would be all eloquent and erudite or anything. You get what you get, and that’s all I’m gonna promise you.
I could tell you about how I recorded several versions of a poem whilst locked in a closet last night. How about that? OK, i wasn’t exactly “locked in”, but it was a closet. There were also big fat headphones and a fancy silver mic and one of those black filter circles that keeps your p’s and t’s and s-es from shattering eardrums. It was all very high-tech, without the whole studio glass scene. M and little C were there to make sure I was emoting effectively. And big C was there to be the techie-guy. (I’m not sure why I started referring to all the people in my life by their initials on this thing, but it’s bound to be confusing when you’ve got two C’s in one sentence. Bother!)
I recorded a poem called “freezerburn”. She’s not all that new–i wrote her about a year ago, and she’s not my favorite little poemtree, but she’s decent enough. And she’s the guinea pig for this spoken word video thing that we’re in the midst of. I spent lots of time last night whispering and yelling and just reading it straight. During the yelling part, I was going for a “sexy anger”, as M and C instructed me. But really I was just violently waving my arms about and screeching. It was very cathartic.
I could record poems all day long, really. It’s very fun. And it makes me miss performing. There’s not much about the old Chicago suburb days that I truly miss, but getting up on a big wide stage and performing my little poems was a definite high point. I didn’t mind the spotlight one bit, no matter how hot and sweaty it made me get. Guess i’ve just got to make do with other spotlights now.
Speaking of spotlights, here’s a virtual one:
(You might be able to find a picture of me, Boy and Dog in gallery, say, #188, if you look hard enough.)
-Lo, who’s really not all that sexy when she’s angry.