It is a heavy load to carry.

Why am I here? Truly, I love this city, but everything I want to do is happening somewhere else. The people to learn from, the art to create…

But no, I have been directed to Post-Katrina New Orleans.

Here to instigate? I’v found that is a talent of mine, but there needs to be the people to inpire. Am I here to find them? I don’t know – but I’m here for now, and every conversation with Stardust where we brew amazing things makes me question it. SO much to learn, but I must teach myself, for now.

I voluteered for a gig on the second, and just found out they are willing to offer me $50- for my time stilting. Since i offered to volunteer, this was a pleasant suprise, and unexpected. Chicken feed, mut much better than the nothing I was willing to do it for. It’s some sort of benefit for children…

The life I want is here – right around the corner. I feel it.

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I guess you could say it's becoming home…

Today I moved formerly immovable things to a place where they seem to not exist, surrendering to the fact that whining about them didn’t solve anything and taking action. Silly me. It took a whole twenty minutes of my time to move the horrible clothes rack that has been stored here completely out of the way. The thought proces was: I should move it upstairs. I wonder if it will fit in my closet? Wait! I can break down the rack and hang the clothes in my closet! – and that’s what i did, leaving the living room space open to exploration. It has begun.

Tonight I decided not to paint my apartment, as much as the glaring white needs it. Instead, another idea – I will drape it.

Soon, I will have an apartment sraped in beautiful fabrics, full of sensuality and warmth. It has already begun, and I am feeling better. Of course, parts of the wall will dissapear when i eventually get a sewing machine, but that’s just part of the magick. I will create my home out of costumes, costumes out of my home. The energy will be amazing. I just need to learn how to be much more creative on a sewing machine – but I can learn anything.

My altar is finally in the place I imagined it, now that the rack of clothes that don’t belong to me is tucked away – it is in between beautiful windows that stretch almost to the floor on the left, and the doors to my balcony on the right. Tomorrow I will drape the fabric behind it, then set my triple-Godess mirror that I had made for me so long ago above it. Perfect. Eventually I will get the wraught-iron sconce that Kevin has been looking after for me, and place that on the wall to the left of the doors.

I will be home, until it is time to go again. Then I will take the fabric with me and create a new space, somewhere else.

***************

I will find the place I am supposed to be for what I need to do, and there is so much I need to do. I haven’t done enough, and it feels good knowing that, as far as i am concerned, I never will. Everything I can for everybody – there is a reason I am not dead, there are things i have done that have helped a few people. There is more I need to do. Always more.

Stardust has given me some information of ways to beat this pesky little virus that has tried to destroy me, and though I must asmit I am skeptical — whatif it works? So many promising things,so many things that you need to “be in the know” for, because they just may work, and the things that work must stay underground. I believe that there is a way to actually be cured, and I completely understand why the information is so hard to find. When I was taking my meds, they came to $1600/month. That was part of the reason I stopped, even though I got them for free. There are people who need them so much more than I, and the government just doesn’t give a damn. Let them have them. I’m strong, in a very strange, unnnatural way. I will survive. They need every bit of help they can get.

**********

I need to perform. i need to be able to make that my sole source of income. I am not a tux-wearing waiter, though I am everything. As much as I can be, only a few things make me happy. Only a few things make ne feel like I am making a difference and delighting people. I need to perform. I need to have fire, and makeup, and stilts, and the faces that are saturated with dreams as they look at me.

I desperately need work – not only for money, but for my soul, for my growth and the growth of others. I have been blessed/cursed with something – I have survived with this virus for years and years, and, just maybe, I can give that lust for life to others, so that their eyes might get a bit brighter, so that they might go into the job they loathe the next day and know that they don’t have to be there, so that they might grab a shovel and start digging desperately for the dreams they set aside, thinging that they would eventually get to them.

I ain’t necessarily young. It took me a long time to find out what I needed – but maybe – just maybe, I might be able to help you realize how desperate the situation is, and how importand it is to drop everything, and follow your dreams.

Listen to them. You shouldn’t need me – but if you do, i am here.

Rememember your heart – remember the fire you had inside of you as a child, and shine. Blind them in your beauty…

(I feel like I should lock this for me – but I ain’t gonna.)

I guess you could say it's becoming home…

Today I moved formerly immovable things to a place where they seem to not exist, surrendering to the fact that whining about them didn’t solve anything and taking action. Silly me. It took a whole twenty minutes of my time to move the horrible clothes rack that has been stored here completely out of the way. The thought proces was: I should move it upstairs. I wonder if it will fit in my closet? Wait! I can break down the rack and hang the clothes in my closet! – and that’s what i did, leaving the living room space open to exploration. It has begun.

Tonight I decided not to paint my apartment, as much as the glaring white needs it. Instead, another idea – I will drape it.

Soon, I will have an apartment sraped in beautiful fabrics, full of sensuality and warmth. It has already begun, and I am feeling better. Of course, parts of the wall will dissapear when i eventually get a sewing machine, but that’s just part of the magick. I will create my home out of costumes, costumes out of my home. The energy will be amazing. I just need to learn how to be much more creative on a sewing machine – but I can learn anything.

My altar is finally in the place I imagined it, now that the rack of clothes that don’t belong to me is tucked away – it is in between beautiful windows that stretch almost to the floor on the left, and the doors to my balcony on the right. Tomorrow I will drape the fabric behind it, then set my triple-Godess mirror that I had made for me so long ago above it. Perfect. Eventually I will get the wraught-iron sconce that Kevin has been looking after for me, and place that on the wall to the left of the doors.

I will be home, until it is time to go again. Then I will take the fabric with me and create a new space, somewhere else.

***************

I will find the place I am supposed to be for what I need to do, and there is so much I need to do. I haven’t done enough, and it feels good knowing that, as far as i am concerned, I never will. Everything I can for everybody – there is a reason I am not dead, there are things i have done that have helped a few people. There is more I need to do. Always more.

Stardust has given me some information of ways to beat this pesky little virus that has tried to destroy me, and though I must asmit I am skeptical — whatif it works? So many promising things,so many things that you need to “be in the know” for, because they just may work, and the things that work must stay underground. I believe that there is a way to actually be cured, and I completely understand why the information is so hard to find. When I was taking my meds, they came to $1600/month. That was part of the reason I stopped, even though I got them for free. There are people who need them so much more than I, and the government just doesn’t give a damn. Let them have them. I’m strong, in a very strange, unnnatural way. I will survive. They need every bit of help they can get.

**********

I need to perform. i need to be able to make that my sole source of income. I am not a tux-wearing waiter, though I am everything. As much as I can be, only a few things make me happy. Only a few things make ne feel like I am making a difference and delighting people. I need to perform. I need to have fire, and makeup, and stilts, and the faces that are saturated with dreams as they look at me.

I desperately need work – not only for money, but for my soul, for my growth and the growth of others. I have been blessed/cursed with something – I have survived with this virus for years and years, and, just maybe, I can give that lust for life to others, so that their eyes might get a bit brighter, so that they might go into the job they loathe the next day and know that they don’t have to be there, so that they might grab a shovel and start digging desperately for the dreams they set aside, thinging that they would eventually get to them.

I ain’t necessarily young. It took me a long time to find out what I needed – but maybe – just maybe, I might be able to help you realize how desperate the situation is, and how importand it is to drop everything, and follow your dreams.

Listen to them. You shouldn’t need me – but if you do, i am here.

Rememember your heart – remember the fire you had inside of you as a child, and shine. Blind them in your beauty…

(I feel like I should lock this for me – but I ain’t gonna.)

Playing with my camera phone…

a few of the first shots, wandering around the French Quarter @ dusk.

(wheeeeee!)

my beautiful balcony & glitter assault area

sitting at Cafe du Monde

Jackson Square, across the street from du Monde

peeking in shop windows…

I dig the reflection of the street lamp…

Sorry about not putting these behind a cut – I can only figure out how to di that correctly 1/2 the time…

I want everyones address.

Everyones.

Friend or not. If I don’t know you too well, please tell me a bit about yourself.

I’ve recently been reminded, thanks to Stardust and the Dresden Dolls new video “Sing”, of how good it feels to recieve simple things in the mail. It inspired me.

I want to randomly send things out to random people – a short note here, petals from a flower there, an envelope full of glitter, CD’s that I have made, or something tha reminds me specifically of you – simple little gifts that bring a brief smile and let you know that they are being thought of.

We all need this sometimes.

Please let me know your addresses – everyone. Send them to kSea13 (at) gmail (dot) com.

Thanks.

~~~kSea flux~~~

ps – especially everyone from The Brigade. (Yes – everyone.)We spent an amazing few minutes together, and though I’m happy I ain’t doin’ what I used to do, I still think of you often…

“…are there places like that around here?”

I’d been walking behind him randomly for a few blocks – just two people going in the same direction on an empty 2am Chartres St. He turns around and looks at me, stops.

It turns out we know each other from a quick conversation in passing one day a couple weeks ago while I was walking down Decatur. He made some silly comment about my skirt which I decided to address, and through that we talked a bit and parted in a handshake and smiles…

Now, walking down Chartres together, I decide to ask him if there are any places in New Orleans – parks, anywhere, where there’s just a large piece of nature. A place for solitude, a place for thinking, or not thinking. I’ve been finding myself needing a place like that recently – a place to escape back to where i belong and think about where I am going, what I am becoming.

“I know what you’re talking about.” he says “There were places I used to go, out to the swamps usually – but everything is gone. Everything has been destroyed. Wiped out. Wiped away. Hey – this is your turn if you want to go to Tiki’s – we’ll see each other again, I’m sure. Take care…” “Yeah Corey – you too. I’ll see you later.”

…

Tomorrow I head out to Gulfport, to Cole’s house to do more work on it. I’ll go to the water while I’m there, walk down the beach for a while, lay my hands in the water, come back to me for a bit, and forget, at least briefly, everything else. It’s been far too long.

Sitting on my couch in my tattered kimono from BM ’03, the right sleeve only held on by a few small stitches on the seam anymore – but comfort is key right now, and this is it.

Feeling sick – feverish, weak & exhausted, and I *don’t* get sick. I can’t remember the last time I was, which is completely backwards for someone who has treated themselves as I have.
My body has resorted to the non-drinking sleep patterns – ie a few restless hours a night, and without question it had also become so accustomed to the steady diet of large quantities of bourbon that is now revolting – and wondering what the hell these wonderful smoothies I’ve been constantly drinking have done with the hootch. Except for the Vipassana retreat in November, I believe this may be one of the longest times I’ve gone without drinking *any* alcohol since the early evening of September 28th

Sorry, Body. You’re mine for now, and, well – you’re just going to have to deal with me taking care of you from time to time. Trust me – we’ll both like you better, and hell, we have a photoshoot with the incredible Pixie on the eve of the 13th of April, so you had *better* be in decent shape for that.

Oh – and yeah – actually being in the physical presence of the beautiful Stardust beginning early that morning for the very first time. (!!!)

I’m actually enjoying the small battle inside, wanting to drink but when I have the notion to fiish the 1/2 pint of Jim Beam sitting since that evening in my cubboard, I raise my eyebrows tauntingly at myself and say “Oh really? ya want a drink, huh?” knowing that if I drink what’s in my cubblard right now, it won’t be enough and I’ll be back to the store, and start this shit all over again. I’ve gotten pretty good over the years at chuckling many of my weaknesses away. Ain’t too much stronger – or more magickal – than laughter.

So, tomorrow hopefully to Whole Foods to get some Melatonin or some herbs that will help me rest my weary, feverish head until my body stops being such a whiny little bitch, hoping I don’t have to resort in tying myself up and punishing me with my floggers.

Wow. What a pshychological mess *that* would create.
(But it may make for some interesting photographs…)

In other news, thanks to Cole and her car jack, I now have a new tire, so after a couple weeks, i am once again mobile! Also thanks to Cole I now have a phone. It’s pretty and takes pictures and short video and has internet access and dumb games and a calendar and alarm clock and a radio and a voice recorder – and dig this – can even CALL PEOPLE I need to talk to! I tell ya, modern technology has come a long way since my last phone for about the same price – about nine months ago.

So – if you’re a friend and you want my number, let me know. You got it.
If you’re an acquantance and want it, let me know why. I’m not a mundane-phone-chat kind of person.

And that brings me to the benefit of involutarily waking up at 5am this morning. I changed my number to a New Orleans area code, designed and ordered business cards thanks to a *great* site Stardust introduced me to – gotprint.net -, went for a sleepwalk around the French Quarter on this incredibly beautiful day, ending up at a place called Fifi Mahoney’s where I bought some fixitave spray for my makeup, as I find powder to be a pain in the ass as it seems I may be slightly alergic to it, and it’s difficult to be a serious statue with eyes watering and nose running.

Last but certainly not least in this update, another beautiful package from Stardust full of magick and love and glitter – that’s where the little bottle of gold glitter came from. Glam Rock Mail! and one lovely item of a deep blue velvet that I am using to hold this wonderful tattered kimono tied around my waist, so the heat on the bottom of the computer has at least a thin barrier between it and – um… well, let’s just say that the warmth feels pretty good.

We’ll leave it at that.
————————————-
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OH! One more thing. I had a dream last night, and there was an address that was very prominent in it. Stardust was there, but (sorry darlin’) the address seemed of more imidiate importance. I’m going to google it right after I post this, but if anyone knows about it – well, it seemed important, for whatever reason, i don’t know. 717 Broadway – Something like The Marion House, or Maroon house – I can’t read my writing…

Right now I need to take a nap, but just seconds ago I was assaulting unknowing people on the sidewalk below from my 3rd floor balcony – with Gold Glitter, doing my best to work with the breeze. (salting them with glitter?)

Such a wonderful day, but must nap before work. More when I get a chance – after one more glitter attack…

I recommend this to EVERYONE!

Okay, that's it.

After this bottle, my drinking will dramatically reduce.

A pint or more of bourbon per night can’t be too good. She is gone and there is nothing I can do about it, life is full of trials and beauty and that is the way it is supposed to be, and I pretty much haven’t stopped drinking in this way since Bean was killed.

I’m better than this.

I owe it to her, I owe it to the people that somehow are foolish enough to care about me.

I owe it, most importantly, to myself – and though the deathwish of youth was only achieved enough to make me regret, it follows me no longer. I live my life, I learn – and I love. Gods, how I love.

I will drink less.
\

Okay, that's it.

After this bottle, my drinking will dramatically reduce.

A pint or more of bourbon per night can’t be too good. She is gone and there is nothing I can do about it, life is full of trials and beauty and that is the way it is supposed to be, and I pretty much haven’t stopped drinking in this way since Bean was killed.

I’m better than this.

I owe it to her, I owe it to the people that somehow are foolish enough to care about me.

I owe it, most importantly, to myself – and though the deathwish of youth was only achieved enough to make me regret, it follows me no longer. I live my life, I learn – and I love. Gods, how I love.

I will drink less.
\

Today I bought a five foot broom handle to practice staff spinning. I am getting okay, but have never been satisfied with okay, I hold myself to high talents.

Falling – why is it called that? No – I am floating because of her. Floating in love. There is no falling involved. We get higher.

Torn between going out and staying in, and I think I willl stay – but this decision changes every moment. I think I will go out.

I should stop thinking.

It must have been eight or nine years ago, she invited me to Mexico for a ritual sweat in Mexico, on Yaqui land.

We were still only friends then, Michelle in Acuupuncture school and me working on Harley’s. Life was so simple.

The sweat was beautiful, full of high energy and Magick.

I will always fondly remember those days this time of year, and I recieved an email from her saying the same, and that her son is six months old today.

My, how things have changed.

My oh my, how incredible my life has become.

A blessed Vernal Equinox to everybody!

Cooking tonight, I spilled a bit of food on the floor – just a small bit of pasta.

I couldn’t help it. I looked around briefly before I caught myself, then slowly leaned down and picked it up myself, and threw it in the trash.

Sometimes, I used to spill it on purpose, but
she isn’t here for those random treats anymore, waiting so patiently just outside the kitchen.

Looking at me, then the food on the floor – then me again.

Waiting. She was so good.

“Okay, Baby!”

I haven’t picked up food off the floor in over five years. I haven’t neeeded to –

until just a couple of months ago.
Still, everytime, I turn and look.

I turn and look, and she is not there anymore.