This morning we had the hostel breakfast of eggs and tortillas again (nothing as gormet as this). Pretty good, but I rarely can finish my food due to the hot temps. I put some super spicy habinaro sauce on mine. I cant seem to get enough hot sauce, good on everything.

Lastnight one of the dudes that kind of (but not really) works at the hostel made some very good BBQed beef. It was super fatty so I stuck to the salad mainly, nice to get some veggies. The only dressing was this salty watery stuff that was actually pretty good.

This morning I got up early and biked to the beach and went for a run on the section where the water is just hitting the sand. Wouldnt you have this song stuck in your head to? I passed by another runner going the other direction and by the look on her face I am pretty sure that she had the same tune in mind. It was very beautiful. After about a mile and a half I went for an early morning swim. Back to the hostel in time for coffee! I have been really enjoying going to bed by about 10. Its a nice schedual to have so I can really get down to some work (drawing, reading, writing, and plotting for the future). Im sure logan is kind of annoyed as a few times he has still been awake for the night when I get up for the morning. Whatevers cleaver.

Well, another day on the beach in Tulum and then on to the next town.

cheers.

pizza dog days

Back on Track

so mexico has calmed down my nerves and given me a new kind of hope and love for the exciting things that will unfold in the days to come upòn my return to olympia. I can´t wait to start on getting a new gallery open. Things are heating up here. Ran into Am´´lee and she is dating a mime. He paints himself solid gold and he did a mime act infrot of the whole town square where he delivered her mail, it was very romantic. I hope that Meg doesn´t move soon.

Where do I even begin?



Becca and I were sitting outside the Bread Peddler last weekend, I had just gotten back, barreling North on I5 past varying degrees of river and gorge, X on real loud, wrappers from New Seasons askew, Coffee Coffee and all the sunglasses.
My second spring break, i just returned,
and we're sitting outside The Bread Peddler the fancy cafe seating, I say,
"Its like I'm living this make believe sort of life,"
and she laughs "I think you Are."

Locked in my attic room reading dispatches from the 90sindiescene, birth stories straight from the heart of my very own little town. If this is not really Olympia in 1992 I can at least pretend so. Scene-fueled vay-cay to D.C. up next.

This whirling tour of Texas, Portland, Seattle I have made of my life, and these plans for the next few months-Minneapolis Chicago Orcas Island and Beyond-
A true product of 90s mainstream thirdwave, I CAN DO ANYTHING GO ANYWHERE BE ANYBODY

So excited.

Its funny I guess. Today is the 5year anniversary of meeting my soul mate
and in this way,
becoming the person I am, the life I have, you know,

its insane whats happened and most of it I never would have planned for.

So its crazy to me that we are setting a date,
JULY TWENTY-SEVENTH,

and I am leaving Olympia.

WHAT IN THE WORLD IS GOING TO HAPPEN.

A million directions.

"I told you your dreams would come true"

The kinds of purple flowers Paxton tucked behind his ears because they bloomed all over Salt Lake City just like home-
now mashed in a moleskin i drew all over.
scrawling about the people we met,
the anarchy posterboy from NewOrleans who dumpstered everything and came to everyparty,
the Rockstars from Paris, whom we sat with in the treetops of the hillcountry seeing all of lit-up Texan cityscape, the slumlord who reminded me of a beer brewer bro i h8
the girl with a scratchy voice and little dog just returned from New York,
the entourages of the bands from the label who we saw day after day who all dressed the hippest the profesh music bloggers fancy people with badges.


I clomped along the highway in tall grass and muddy boots
the air smelled like BBQ
I could feel Sissy Hankshaw flowing to my bones
Many cows prairies taco trucks and skulls,


The most happiest kind of girl.

do you all believe in the looking back to old photos and letters and RE doing them within the images in your mind that you remember?  it's all i want to do lately, found a portrait of my mom on her honeymoon and i'm painting it in bright blue and silver and she has long dark hair, like she did but also like she didn't.  

i think what i'm doing here is i'm trying to find some reconciliation between the reality of lived experience and what memory shows us, it's surely an adventure and perhaps i'll have something to show for it along the way, like the time i was putting my pieces of my own photos onto photos of my fathers from when he was young and understood something else, and writing a story about what i was seeing.  i like getting caught up in understanding the past with what i am feeling today but i wonder how much looking back i can do without moving forward, really

i am floating in water in space in an armchair, sleeping soundly and will not hear the waves when they come crashing in on me

"wa oh wa ooooh wa oh oh oh woah wa oh wa ooooh wa oh oh oh woahwa oh wa ooooh wa oh oh oh woahwa oh wa ooooh wa oh oh oh woah"

once upon a time:

These were my cronies



this was my partner in life

this is what my brain was like