Wild is the …


I tried, though. I was determined – but the wind won this round.

Got the makeup and garb on, grabbed all my schtuff, and headed down to Jackson Square as I usually do. Even made $2 on the way there from some photo takin’ people.

Then, I find a good spot, un-bungee the milk crates, and start setting up.

The milk crate that I put my much lighter box on, which holds the even lighter money that people give me – the friggin’ MILK CRATE starts to blow down the sidewalk.


I asses the situation.

1. Need money. Big time. Gots to find me an apartment.
2. Even if people were more generous than they ever were on this very day, putting gobs and gobs of cash into my box, it probably wouldn’t matter, as the gobs and gobs of cash, along with the box, the milk crate, and my hat would be blowing down Decatur street.

I laugh a bit, pack right back up again, and head home.

Well, at least I made that $2. The day wasn’t a total loss.

Now, to wipe off the makeup, meet Andrew at Cafe du Monde for some Bignets and an au lait, then come back here and practice with staff.
Maybe even get some stretching in. And do some wardrobe repairs.


I love having my computer clock on 24 hour time.

As Midnight rolls around, the clock says 00:00 – a brand new day, the previous one wiped clean, where anything can happen.

It’s up to us to decide where it will go, what it will bring…

“They say that time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.”
~ Andy Warhol ~

My Statue has a groupie

This is actually quite sweet – emailed to me a couple days ago…

The White Duke of Decatur

Chin up, stand up straight and proud,
Sir Duke, so white and elegant
you’ve a lot to do to-day you know

the carousel music plays
from the bay
the calliope and pipes
it’s a sweatslick sunny day
you stand there as passerby
glance and pace and mumble

you simply stand there
not wavering nor tumbling
still tall
ever white and pale
you barely look askance

as the passerby mumble and shuffle
pace and do their nervous everyday dance

but you are something quite different
you fire-breather, you ecstatic fluke

and this, well this I must say to you
lovely tall White Duke…

to see you standing still
and then in motion
it’s not quite a fright
but to see you step down and smile
arms tattooed and finally mobile
those are the things
that set the skies alight
into a purple sun starshot

Dear Duke
standing so tall and pale
you are one of the beautiful and wondrous oddities
all to rare in these course days

Stand still and stand tall
for you make me smile
and everyone knows
that smiles as well as dreams
fragile as stained glass
thin as smoke
are all to rare these days

“Kick up your heels and paint your face
Wave goodbye to yesteryear
We can swing in outer space
Or from the chandeliers…”

To kSea, The White Duke of Decatur

25 April, 2006

Aonie D.

To lose myself in finding you

lets me believe, again
in the power of dreams.
To reach, to know –

and when there is nothing else
to believe in

you remind me
to trust in myself.
to remember my dreams.
to know that anything
is possible,

and you teach me again
how to unfold my wings
and prepare for flight.

You teach me again
that nothing is unreachable
as long as I believe and
as I long for your arms around me
I will do what I can here
to bring them to me
and feel as if I deserve them.

To deserve you.

I know I am better than what I think of myself.
I know I am better than who I ever was,
and I know that I have earned you, and you
are, perhaps, what I have worked so hard for
perhaps, all the work that has been done so far
was for me
so I could be me, so I could be
all that I can be
for you

for now.

I look around the room, and see an all too familiar setting. A mess of boxes and bags, stuffed again with the little I have remaining, the things that I still hold onto – hoping someday for a home, a place to put them where they might stay. It’s been far too long.

I frequently wonder if somehow I am destined to always keep moving, never truly having a home that I can entirely feel comfortable in, always encountering some problem or another that prohibits me from resting, doesn;t let me firmly plant my feet anywhere. A hundred places I can stay for a while, but nothing panning out, ever. Nothing that I know is mine, my sanctuary, that I can keep for more than a few months. Forever wantering, forever intruding…

I don”t know, it’s just a thought.


A familiar and frustrating sense of loneliness and defeat today. Forgetting who I am, what I have done, what i am capable of. For the longest time I’ve tried to keep as positive of an attitude as I can, knowing that’s all I had – the most important thing I could possibly hold onto in order to make all of the possibilities in my life the days happen – but then someone comes along, and with a few simple words completely takes the wind out of my sails, leaving me adrift, silent – empty of the enthusiasm and excitement. This person has known me for a while. Do they see things that I can’t? am I just another foolish dreamer, forever knowing the possibilities but never able to reach them? Is that how they see me?

Is that how I should look at myself?

Fuck it. Try to ignore it. Try not to let it get me down. Try to find the entusiasm again, the light. Hop on the bike, and go turn in the application for the apartment, now filled with doubt instead of confidence, thinking of everything that can go wrong, trying not to accept that it will.

trying. Put on the game face. Pretend again. You’re good at it, remember? Nothings wrong. Never let them see it. Same old happy fucking Casey as far as their concerned.

Upon arriving home, I get a call from Kameron – she’s just got hired at the last second for a gig in jackson Square, and the agent I’ve been wanting to talk to will be there. Last thing I want to do is leave the place, but I need this. Change, grab the stilts and the fire equipment, put on the game face and go. I need to meet him.

Got there, had some fun – stilting in Jackson Square, breathing fire a bit, and having the room to practice with my staff. It felt good to do a bit with Kameron & Andrew, but still, underneath is the worry, the stress of not being able to find a home, of not being able to make this work.

I get home, and just sit in the darkness for about an hour, exhausted, wanting to feel anything but that so I feel nothing again.

Nothing is always safe.
Nothing is better than that.
Nothing is what matters, and right now,

Nothing matters.

I found the perfect apartment.

A double parlor entrance with beautiful doors, hardwood floors, TONS of closet space, brand new appliances with washer & drier, big (shared) yard, quiet neighborhood, close to the French Quarter, over 1100 sq. ft., perfect area for a sewing machine, dining room, beautiful kitchen, and, for what it is and what I’ve seen otherwise, incredibly inexpensive, comparitively.


I’m filling out the application now, dropping it off tomorrow morning.

Please send me some good perfect apartment getting energy! Throw some magick my way, anyone who feels inclined.

I would really appreciate it.



I open the doors to my balcony for one of the few last times, load te CD they sent me, and turn up the volume.

From the speakers comes a wonderfully familiar voice of someone from a previous life – a life what was so incredibly instrumemtal in creating the one I have manifested for myself now – one that certainly would not exist without them. I was tought my strengths, I was reminded of the most primal of loves.

As the music plays, I swim in the past. I read through the liner notes, recognizing so many names, reliving so many memories – and then, certainly not expecting it in any way, I read my own name, under the title of “A Standing Ovation for those without whom we’d be nothing.” The tears could not be held back. The time we spent together – lifetimes – was more than justified by including my name in the DVD – something that was almost necessary in my apppearance – but this – this… This made me actually know – as many times as they told me, as many times as I felt I could do better – that I did something good.

That I was actually appreciated.

A message to Amanda, Brian, and the Brigade – I still consider you my children, my loves, my mentors. All of you are each of those in some respect. You have taught me more than you may ever know, and without question, my life would not have the beauty that it now has become without what I learned from – and with – you.

And because of you – all of you – this is my life now and in the previous months…

From Colorado, where my venture to Boston was stopped short, I emailed a friend – this was just a few days after Katrina – I asked her if there was anything I could do to help, as her home was New Orleans – but she said “No, we can barely help ourselves – and directed me to Austin, fuckingTexas…

Bur I’m getting far too much detailed. I spent four months in The Enchanted Forest, and now I am here, in New Orleans. I leave the details aside. I am here because we needed each other.

And now, in brief – I make my living as a street performer, always learning more – needing more. More happens. More is all I could ever want to be for myself an you. I owe it to us. And thus:

A few new friends and myself are creating a circus – and a circus school. This was my dream when I arrived here, and I could not have been more blessed – One of the people I have the pleasure of creating this with is one of the main figures in creating the first one in New Orleans – and of all the strangest things, *she* approached *me*. We talked, we know what we want.

It WILL happen, because of you – Amanda, Brian, and most importantly, The Brigade. Realize, at leat a bit, the impact you have. We imagine, we dream, we create.


repeat forever.

Thank you. I love you.


Up at a decent hour, one I haven’t seen in many Saturdays unless it was simply to get a glass of water or piss before going back to sleep. Did the rirst full (yet short) yoga routine I’ve done in months, made a smoothie, some yerba mate, pulled a polaroid picture out of the pocket of the white pants I wear under my skirt for the statue, smiled warmly, and replaced it. I begin preparing for another long and beautiful day performing in Jackson Square.

I have been given two names there; Krishna Warrior, from an odd homeless woman who sometimes happens by, and “The White Duke of Decatur Street” by a little kindergoth girl named Ash, who a few weekends ago came up to me and sang quietly
“i can paint my face
and stand very very still
its not very practical
but it still pays the bills…”

a line from a Dresden Dolls song. It was cute. The next weekend she came up to me, excited to announce to me that “YOU’RE kSea!” I guess that she had watched the DVD again and made the connection…


It has been five days since I have woken up bleary eyed and reeking like bourbon. I’m digging this not drinking thing. There is too much to do for that to get in the way, even just a little bit, anymore. I’ve got a Circus and Circus School to help create, I have a beautiful home to find, and an extroardinarily beautiful woman who I will never drunkenly waste the precious little amount of time we are able to spend together again.

Through months – perhaps years, of drinking too much, this is the first time I have ever really felt the impact it may have on others, although many friends have expressed their concern. I never want to waste another second with Stardust.

Besides – if I was able to do this much as a drunk, imagine what is possible now? There are so many things to learn, so many things to give. There is macick to explore, there are lives to help better, and I need to begin with mine.

I know myself well enough to completely prohibit myself from drinking – I can’t help but challenge *anyone*, including myself, who tells me I *can’t* do something, but it will be drastically limited – and I’m feeling a new empowerment, a fresh breath of air, much different than the previous times I
the previous times I did this, where it felt much more like something I *had* to do instead of something I wanted to do.

There is so much beauty in my life right now, things that I have dreamed of are happening, and I won’t play the fool anymore.

Fuck yeah.


Enough of this, just had to write. Time to – time to what? Statue up? Become the White Duke of Decatur? I dig that moniker. So close to Bowie’s “Thin White Duke”…

my secret beloved
sent me a secret message

“give me your soul
give me your life

wander like a drifter
go on a journey

walk into this fire with grace
be like a salamander

come into our source of flame
fire transmutes to a rose garden

don’t you know that my thorn
is better than the queen of roses

don’t you know my heresy
is the essence of spirituality

then surrender your spirit
surrender your life”

oh God i know
a garden is better than a cage

i know a palace
is better than a ruin

but i’m that owl in this world
who loves to live in the ruins of love

i may be that poor wandering soul
but watch all the aspiration and light

watch the glow of God
reflecting from my face

— Ghazal 2508
Translation by Nader Khalili
“Rumi, Fountain of Fire”
Cal-Earth Press, 1994

Exhausted, but thrilled.

A slow day out at jackson Square, but I’ll make up for it in my three day Performance Marathon for French Quarter Fest – planning on being out there from around 10:am until around 7 – we’ll see if I can take it.

Then, shortly after I returned home, a call to the meeting for The Cirkus/Circus School we are creating. Just enough time to wipe off my makeup befor going to meet Andrew, then off to Camerons’ house where Raven, one of the aerialists from the party I mentioned a few posts before, and another woman whose name I forgot joined us.

Godamn, what a productive meeting! I’m so incredibly excited about this – and it’s going to happen.

Now, off to bed. I’ve got a lot of standing around to do for the next few days.

And now for something completely different –

As of the end of this month, I will need a new place to call home. I am looking for shelter,, I am looking for space. I need it now.

I can make rent easily, but my credit sucks.

I need a new home – just sending the energy out there.

I will drink less, smoke less – for me/

I am open to everything good.


SO – whatcha got? I sleep now, with my memories.


Oh – and more teasears of the amazing shots that Pixie took…