dolls.in.the.walls

The week starts on Sunday….

Sunday . Oh well ouch.  The regular painful intervals that remind that I am indeed an adult female surprised this time around.  I am the drugged, the stupefied, the foaming mindless meat shield who fires on limited synapses.  Dropping an envelope behind the tansu becomes sisyphean and I leave it becoming  exasperated over a nothing.  I know this well, I know this 26 years of my life well.  I refuse to get dressed and I won’t leave the house for the purchase of that iron & vitamin combo I polished off last month that could make me feel slightly better.  Car–>Store means walking, concentration, standing, or requesting someone else go… and that would require speaking so much that I may have to use multiple sentences, perhaps multi-syllables to explain what I need and where it is and how to find it.   Fuck it.  I’ll just be weary.  Ennui, chocolate, rarish steak,back to bed happy I retrieved the busted laptop from repair shop.  I spend my time clicking whilst in bed but it isn’t the useful kind.  Nothing sinks into the brain it all collects on the surface and slips easily away like the skin on a pudding.  Hating the occasional wrench to the guts but strangely enjoying riding it out.  I laze & quietly bemoan in a rather Victorian fashion.

Monday spent in a haze, dwindling brain meat atrophied by ill feelings.  I am enveloped by an inability to consider answering phones, emails, stringing thoughts together even.  I think “Perhaps this is  a forced STAYCATION”.  Then I think “Oh god I hate that fucking non-word”  I narrowly avoid bouts of rage over cute-ified language driven by marketing.  Everything I am is due to a lack of verbal acuity at this time.  I realize I need the television to switch off the mind.  I have no DVD I wish to watch.  I watch actual television.  Not surprisingly, that hurts worse.  Nothing amuses and I feel that I cannot be distracted.  Until it appears!  It (bling, sparkle) wins all  best of awards!  Wretched made for TV movie is mine!  Well it barely squeaks ahead of that one with the teenage boy who finds internet porn and loses perspective on life and his girlfriend and college scholarship and the respect of his mother and he goes into therapy with his parents and comes out a winner.  No Meredith Baxter here, this is  stronger stuff.   No “bring my baby back from the cheerleader who divorced my terrifying husband with two lives who kills the babysitter…. or DOES he?”.   A movie “made for women” with Harry Hamlin and Lisa Rinna?!?  Oh this is perfect.  It’s about his sex addiction.  He has a secret hideaway for handjobs,  a place his wife finds, where when she enters to discover his sin the tense music tenses tighter…. there are stacks!of!porn!magazines!and!dvds!with!people!fucking!! I may never again need to marvel at the utter shite people create for “women” as this one takes the cake.

Sadly there was no cake to be eaten whilst watching Sex, Lies, & Obsesssion. This is quite possibly a national tragedy.

I am either better or worse for the watching.  I busy myself and refuse to consider it all, because it becomes a slippery slope into a morass of fear that my interest in watching parts of these horribly low brow little dramas means I will become infected with belief that it is my life which is a horrible string of purchases-in-bulk & ill considered notions and that it is their lives which hold normalcy and meaning and I must emulate that to find a path to releif.

…Oh that old thought pattern again.  Hello old shoe.  Hello comfy like a sweatshirt thoughts…. goodnight. Continue Reading »

I’m ordering them today. I can’t wait.

I live very near this exceptionally long promenade which marks the collapse of that sky way that fell during the Loma Prieta earthquake in the early 90s, right down the middle of the multiple lanes is a sidewalk for walking.  But me?  I’ll be skating it. Not inline skating, 4 wheel skating.

Ah and no actutally, have no plans to roller derby.  (aka “The New Burlesque”)  This is strictly a “need something other than jogging/treadmill/elliptical” kind of thing.  This is an avoid jogging thing.    This is a preparing to wear leather bootie shorts thing.  This is a fresh air and music grafted to my ears get out of the damned head and house kind of thing.  This ain’t even a nostalgia thing.  Although I am more ambidextrously skilled from that time I tried to roller skate in an empty pool in the late 1970s and broke my left hand wrist.

But I best insert a youtube clip because one can’t very well go about mentioning roller skating on the streets without referencing some kind of roller nostalgia, right?

Oh, I’m terribly sorry.  I should be inserting something more ironic, no? Here, how about the raddest, most tubular roller skating thing ever filmed instead then?

It will be Xanadu.  I will indeed, be your roller mama, and perhaps we shall will discover that I become hell on wheels.

Here we go…!

“They Monitored All Communications”  of all Americans, says NSA whistleblower

Father knows best, right?  I”m sure they have good reasons, and we just don’t know what they know… we just need to trust daddy.

If you haven’t read “Dont think of an elephant” I strongly recommend  it and of course applying this to everything you see, hear, read, write, and speak publicly.  Don’t let the fact that it frames itself as a book for progressives turn you off, it’s about framing linguistics which should be of greatinterest to many artists, musicians, and just your general, all around pissed off radicals.  I am convinced that they stopped using the words “Total Information Awareness” and re-framed the concept within the Homeland Security concept because it was just a bit too Orwell in polling

autocracy IS hot.

We expect to be lied to, corporations happily hand over what we view as “Our/Private” information, a President stands up and boldly tosses aside the thing he has sworn to protect (our rights), they tapped all journalist communications… It just gets louder and funnier from here. I will be following Tice, the EFF, and fantasizing that at some point, as it is all so very un-Constitutional, that the truth will out.

INGSOC, baby!

That said, here is the crummy little web page with late night, spurious digital pieces I threw together on the subject when it first “crossed our desk”.  The date on the page and folder in which it is archived is Nov. 23, 2002.  I distinctly remember hearing the words “Total Information Awareness” and commenting that they hadn’t  newspeaked it up at that time and that it would either disappear or we were entering a new era of  bold “truth” in which the government made elements of the constitution take a back seat with “our best interests” at heart.

The intention at the time was to make the thumbs up  a recognizable “it’s all good, man” symbol of our acceptance of T.I.A. and the overall homeland defense packages & doublespeak they were pushing, before they rebranded this into the war on terror and security.  Just like everyone else, I let the concept drop and moved to other concerns.  I have some old thumbs up TIA stickers somewhere…

totalinformationawareness.html circa 2002

Not my best work, but still.. I’m a magic fukkin’ 8Ball, I’m the Nostrodamus of wretched shit the government will hapily partake in in the name of letting freedom ring!  I’m… hey I’m out of coffee.  I need a refill.  And some toast.

first let us start with a link to some really stunning jewelry and some other blogged crafty work.  this is not  in the realm of cute chick makes corsets1!11!!/etsy yarn doll / screen print/ sparrow necklace stuff, although I know there was an etsy page start here, it transcends.  this work is a lovely fusion of  biologics made to wear art and craft .  best to look at the jewelry here and the concept in context than for me to describe.

A current bubbling up & creative project of mine caused me to find those adornments. That currency relates to a musical project which perhaps will find its way to the blather and figurals pages under which all creative dolls find themselves stuffed for now.  I don’t feel like collecting more interest, I must admit. I need to spend the currency here, but when and how when and how…

but more to the point, there is a nearly hidden line in my recent animated obsession  ‘everything will be ok‘

A line comes with the deformed birds on cell phones moment  (although ‘the pipe is leaking’ has invaded my thoughts quite often) where one says “I am made nervous…” and completes that sentence.  The completion of sentence in EWBOK matters but not really to the rest of my story.

Right.  Well.

so.

Yes.

‘I am made nervous’ keyed into a variety of concepts that have a tendency to draw my attention.  Or at least send me into a research state.  Nervousness in humans be it due to self-effacement or borne of genuine insecurity – be it substantive or be it simple genetic meets mental disposition, the concept of the nerves and discussion -Their nervousness fascinates., I like to see it.

As I enjoy thrumming on the nerve endings of others, to see what reactions I might inspire – I consider, of course, the nervous system, the stimulus<>response, and naturally it all takes a hard right into the parking lot of Behaviourism.

Somehow, it also falls into a written project which will have some relation to sound scape. it is all mucosa.

Bubble bubble.

For now, here are some things I found in 9 minutes of very fast google research that I will keep to remember the line “i am made nervous”.  More to come as it sets up into a  substantial project…or perhaps this is all I will get.  A moment made public of the kind of research that allows me to move into the  productive part of the day.

I find the images I discovered in my quick scan-words-into-images  similar and leading.

enervated when I see the following in succession now on the page, i am made nervous when I consider such patterns bent to projects.

if you have yet to discover …. when hereabouts, clicking thumbnails makes for big pics overlaid on the browser window.

I have a love hate relationship with the connectedy-ness of the community software systems.  I’ve tribed, I’ve live journaled, I’ve completely given up on myspace because for some reason it always breaks my browsers and I lack the requisite patience, I was the yelp-iest for a time, I was all up in those Craigslist forums talking about film or food, and now I’m all kinds of facebooked. I have yet to twitter.

As an aside, I see Twitter as owning excellent potential for quick doses from perverse & straight forward sex work alike.  “And now I am inserting”   “Just made so and so do such and such. Mua ha ha”.  I can see one more commercial revenue stream in the, at times, hard scrabble life of the sex worker trying to make ends meet.  There would be no sound or image to be seen by prying eyes, just an added textual titillation to the day.  I’ve already fantasied out the long term implications of being so connected into machines and how we all relate to our sexuality and how very much it has become attached to the untouchable & wired.  But that, dear readers, is another topic perhaps to be spewed in the first person plural oft adopted by Dolls in the Walls.

Where was I?  Ah, right…

Having taken the approach that blogging is diarizing  in general, or displaying personal interest and preference without a need for response,  it’s odd that I would find any trouble in the quick fix version found in something like a facebook.  While potentially being read by others, these blogs (or online journals) can just be a random body expressing our truths to whomever might stop and read, confessing into the ether, or knowledge that the people you care about are at least aware of how you’re thinking/feeling/acting out.  That ultimately self expression online is about the writer more than the readers (”in most cases” caveat goes here), why do I find elements of “community portals” a bit off putting?  I believe I am a bit troubled when  expressing ourselves through pre-fabricated applets and click-to-adds becomes a bit like collecting rather than connecting.

There is a fair bit of ‘ the easy communicating in a busy world’ that I have warmed to around Facebook.  “It’s snowing here” is a great example – no need to call or send an email to that affect, it’s really a mini statement that does not need a full blog post or additional imagery.  It isn’t so one-sided because it becomes open to comments from your friends.  Indeed,  where some of my friends live there has been a snowpacalypse lately and more snow is in fact something I’d like to know about their status.

However, I also fall prey to mulling the clever little sentence I could post about myself in the “status field ” wondering in the moment how to utilize the language to send cryptic messages to a small handful of in the know friends, real no holds barred status information, or just broad smirks to all.  I hold myself back from this.  Owing to that other part of self – the one that feels a bit keenly or has been called a prig or simply “too intense”, I am tempted to post status (statii?) of  blatant honesty, confessions of weakness, or personal vivisection that rails against the very cheery nature of the Facebook.  I’ve even thought about the clever persona that could capitalize on that very dreary purpose.  If one Woe Smee requests to befriend you, jump on the band wagon!

So yeah. I continue to interface.  To connect.

I muse about the ways in which one could use facebook for evil or at the very least to mini-torture the people one loves.  Seeing their new persona mashed by that picture you have  from 1989 is nothing short of hilarity to my mind.  There is a definite shamespiral of revenge photo tagging that I have yet to see truly unfold, but I wait for it, with  hangover/band van tour/braces/nerdy adventure gaming/ pics at the ready!   I see the fascinating thing about “Hey I knew that person when I was 16, what are they doing now?” and how FB has moved from being about the young getting together into more of we older types reminiscing and trying to feel a sense of connection to a place we hardly remember.  That or saying to one another “I turned out like this, pretty cool huh?”  or perhaps “I had this baby, you can’t deny that I’ve affected the world in some way”.

Love hate.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Meantime, DiTW is just a series of things I see (and speak or photograph), make, feel, do, think.  I thought I best do a little pixelsteading out here on the inter-range for now.  The mind it is aswim as ever in a sea of open ended options, creative impulses, and possible actions taken.

work by trevor brown can be found by clicking that link