I finally made it out at about 2:30pm. Things to do here, a small load of laundry, talk to the Berkeley City construction foreman asking him ofthe best way not to have the Beast towed, emails, emails, coffee. I had time, only needed a few things, only needed to do a few across the bay.
BART had mechanical problems, so while waiting the notebook came out and I stared blankly at the wall trying to remember the things I was thinking about in another sleepless night last night, and ideas for another performance were written. Maybe someday I’ll write the small story that came of me not being able to sleep, a battle between head and body – it was cute, in a dreadful way. The head doesn’t shut up, so the body lifts the glass to give make it quiet, The body knows the repercussions, and loathes them – but needs to rest, needs the head to shut up. The story was a dialogue between the two, body and mind, somewhat comical yet with lessons that I already have learned from – but still haven’t completely taken into practice. Getting better, though… What people think is no stranger to me, and besides that, ther is far too much to do…
Entering the train car, the ever-present and somwwhat absurd (yet beloved, as there are so many stories in and underneath it) top hat, velvet coat, grey Levi’s that were black about four years ago, I was fortunate enough to find an open seat. I looked around – I love looking at people, watching them… but on BART, I would rather read, so I opened the current book, remembering taht I was in the midst of a good story.
The East bay stops, the tunnel under the Bay, reading, occasionally looking up to see who has left, who has entered. The amount of people had thinned, but not so much that there still weren’t people standing. At Embacadero, the first stop in San Francisco, I looked up again, and someone sitting close – a young man maybe in the late twenties, dark hair, unremarkabble features yet somewhat handsome, briefly caught my eye just before it went to the words of the book again. “Excuse me…” I looked up at him. Yes? hey. “By any chance have you ever been to Boston? I had to think. I had, but surely this person couldn;t remember me from that… “yeah, a few years ago, but only for a couple weeks.”
“Have you heard of a band called The Dresden Dolls?”
whoa.
“Um, yes. I used to work with them, they’re my friends.”
He remembered me from the DVD shoot – he was there, and somehow, somefuckinghow, he was able to recognize me and place me. That’s kind of weird, kind of trippy, kind of – well, pretty damn cool.
We talked until the next stop about them and the Cloud Club, but then it was my stop and I had to get off the car. I gave him my card, told him to contact me – he just moved here three weeks ago.
Small world.
Pretty friggin’ kick ass world.
Sat, February 16, 2008 – 12:11 AM
It’s not my choice anymore. Not a concious one, anyway. I’ve told myself far too many reasons to not venture into it, and ever-present is the thought of possible failure, of putting endless hours of work in and still not being able to make it happen because of funds – but I am far from a defeatist. I will do what I can and see what happens…
Yesterday I began learning how to work with html code, trying to create a web page, learning through error, error, error, frustration and then, a small triumph. Always at the end a small triumph. I know better – if I couldn’t figure it out, it would just be another sleepless night. They aren’t infrequent these days – so much to do, it is time for action. I have been stagnant for far too long, and now the gates have been opened, the flood comes. Days looking for suitable work that fits with my impossible schedule and necessary fear of long term commitment to an actual job, nights spent teaching myself something that it seems like I can only depend on myself to do. Better that way. I can pay me nothing and be happy with it, for the most part. Hell, as long as I’m learning… and I do this because I have learned.
Big Top Magazine is becomming. So far about ten hours trying to figure out the simplest shit, but hells – I will soon have the home page done, and long ago Boe bought the site – I just need the scratch to get server space. I have no idea about how to go about that – I ain’t no tech monster, just a dreamer with passion. If anyone out there can help…?
12:35am, Thursday. Fuggin hell.
Things are happening – ideas for new and far better performances, the friggin’ magazine, the constand search for appropriate employment, some incom of any sort. Hard to survive on nothing, but somehow I do. I have my food stamps that, if I am very careful, keep me eating substances that resemble food – I have Luna, who I actually believe in, love dearly, and somehow, someway, accepts me for who I am now while encouraging me to be who we both see in me, I have inspiration from everywhere to create things that just might make people laugh, just might make them think…
I have so fucking much, and more than most. I am here to give back. I need to. I have been given to far to much, and that needs to change. now.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
If anyone knows anything about Dreamweaver or HTML and is willing to help me out a bit in a tutor type of way, I would appreciate it. I want to get this site up, and see where it goes. I need something to show – a good idea is not enough.
This needs to happen.
I think – perhaps foolishly, that after I complete the front page and all of my anal exactness of how I think it should look with what I have to work with that the rest will be simple – I learn more and more as the hours click bu soundlessly, but – still, I am waiting for my wings to unfold as I so willingly fall…
This is what I wrote about an hour ago as an inroduction to the rag, still working onthe Front Page:
Welcome, with all of my heart. It was an idea spawned from a couple of days a long time ago spent in bookstores, searching for something that I hope that this will become. Some inspiration, iideas to grow from, something that I could take to bed with me and dream the dreams that I wanted to, with the absolute knowledge that those dreams could come true.
I had already been in the performance world for a bit, but as beautiful as it was and is, all I had were the people around me in San Francisco, with occasional new delights coming in from other cities, mainly around the West Coast of America…
At that point in time, it was only an idea. “What if…?” and that’s as far as I dared to go, but the idea remained, and became more and more of a need. A number of months later I was emboldened by good drink and desperation to change a situation, and decided to go ahead with it. There have been no shortage of challenges or dissapointments since then, but there was also inspiration. I kept telling myself that I would get back to creating this magazine once I got my feet back on the ground, hoping that would happen soon. It didn’t, I’m not, but hell, every friggin’ time I see Pixie she asks me about the magazine, reminds me of it and makes me lust after it again, and I all I could ever tell her was the same thing I kept telling myself…
When I get my feet back on the ground. When I have the time and resources to devote to it. When I have at least some idea of what I’m doing.
Then, against all of my better judgement, I started thinking. There has been little in my life that I have entered into with preparation. The more I prepare, the more I find out about the difficulties, the more afraid I become, and most things that
I scrutinize die before they are even born. I have found it much more productive to go into adventures blindly and know, somehow, that they will work out, than see all that could go wrong before I take even the first step. When that happens, the first step is never taken. I have learned.
I start running with an idea on solid ground, and after the first few steps, my eyes close. I know there is a cliff, I know that I will stop everything if I see the edge. I run, blind as I can be to what I know is up ahead, and when there is nothing but air below my feet – that is when I look up and see my wings again.
I was terrified to take this on – am terrified to take this on, but it needs to be done, so I do it. Everything you see here I began teaching myself yesterday – web page design, html coding, hells – I have no idea what I’m doing, all Iknow is that I need to do it, and for the most part, it is up to me – so I will make it happen.
Welcome to Big top Magazine.
I would appreciate any suggestions to make it better – or just simply make it continue to happen – and I welcome you, with all of my heart…
With love,
~ kSea flux
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Wish me luck…
Thu, February 7, 2008 – 1:12 AM —
It offers as much padding as I can offer right now, which isn’t much. Fine for me on the bench – I make do with what I have right now, I manage to sleep, sometimes, but now, all of the sudden, there is more than me, more than I ever expected. More than I ever dared to want.
to believe in.
{she sleeps, here at my feet as I write, with only what I have to offer her, which isn’t much. Only my heart…
Never a complaint. Visions of future, yes, but never a complaint, save for the chill that permeates this strange rectangular “home” at times, then there is no end to the whining. I bring out an extra blanket, drape it over her shoulders, she quiets, and stands aside while I make, again, our bed on the floor of my strange home.
What am I doing? Who is she, and why? Ai, dear woman, you have suffered similar challenges, our lives reflect each others in a broken mirror, we are such different creatures, yet the same…}
I know her. I have for a long time. Still, she terrifies me, makes me question. Who am I to deserve such a woman? Sometimes she makes me uncomfortable in the things that she does but I learn from that. Sometimes I question, then I feel further, and learn more.
I don’t lold back in what I feel.
She is simply, beautifully who she is, and I am…
I am tired. Haven’t slept for a couple days, wrapped up in ideas for new things.
New Things.
and we grow, together.
crawling in with her now…
Two wrongs, making a right… Sat, February 2, 2008 – 3:50 AM
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