Jazz Etiquette

jazz sessions. görlitzer park. do you have friends anyway? will you sleep alone tonight? rico. harmonica holster. tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk. wait your turn for the rhythm then BLOW. fingers do the anticipation dance, the rhythm jitterbug. hunched over black and ivory. matte brass. closed eyes and breathe... breathe. bum bum BUM bum of calloused fingers. you close your eyes as it is the sense of least importance here.

Why I will never have a 6-pack

Real Butter

Brie

Whole Milk

Linguini

Crusty Bread

Pecan Pie

Birthday Cake

Gristle

Pork Belly

Wine Wine Spritzers

Cumulus / The Sum of Your Parts

from the balcony: tangible mass

soft, puffy, and formidable

from the balcony: slow

creeping across the sky, but traveling at a rate

faster than i can keep up

up close: translucent

it's cold and the wind carries billions of water droplets

in the same, different direction

up close: you're just your parts

i see right through you

Spring Green, WI

out here things are a little different
every one and thing takes their time

people actually hear what you have to say
so make sure you mean it

barns are shitty because they are structurally unsound
not because they just look worn and torn

at night
great gusts of wind roll across the sky in waves
crashing through the dry leaves and stiff branches
violent and unrelenting
distant thunderstorms pound their muted BOOM
lightning briefly illuminating
clouds, acres, and rain
the misty half moon spell
over all of this

i close my eyes
and hear the ocean

Sol

sometimes I look right at the sun
even when I know I'm not supposed to
to see how long I can last.

even though it burns
i know the ghost of the sun
pulsating under my eyelids
will fade over time.

berlin, germany

October 11th to December 5th, 2009. Yep.

Tiny Vice

New Year's resolution in Nasty Nassau

I should have known from the start

At first it was social, complimentary

Then more frequent, affordances of

still times

ritual

depth

and breath

Partner to times that raised my heart rate

the closest approximation to a campfire experience with

darting fireflies

a huddle and whispers

interrupted by bolts of laughter

Campaigns waged in my youth

picket signs discarded

Now I just pick at it

A scab

I'll never say never

but I will say "Not this time"

because our time has come

Memories

What if our experiences

left physical marks on our bodies

as it does on canyon walls

and exposed tree trunks?

Imagine interpretations made by future archeologists,

sorting out the effects of

wind,

water,

and light.

S.W.C.

We're going to keep doing stupid things

until we're done.

You'll think about it everyday

until one day you don't.

It'll always hurt until

one day

it won't.

Eastern Sierra Range

Glacier lakes over 11,000 feet.

Cold and inviting,

every single pore

open and ready to receive

the burn.

Distant sounds:

The constant swoop and curve of the water over rocks.

Sweet treble.

Rocks sharply sliding downwards heavy with age, sun, and the slow movement of the earth.

Muted bass.

The wind snaking through your clothes. Your hair following the notes.

Idyllwild

Silence is deafening,

but our voices carry.

We're covered

in a thin layer of dust

with smoke in our hair.

Pictures or it didn't happen.

You can only take our word for it.

Up on Suicide Rock,

we forget the aches

and breathe deeply.

AIDS LifeCycle

A card I received in the mail from my parents, bless their hearts – no one knows how to insult, congratulate, and ignore proper grammar in sutble ways like Asian parents.

Dear Bee [family nickname],

Since we raised you, we know that you’re not a physical girl.

But for you to complete the bicycle ride for AIDS LIFECYCLE in June 2009 SF --> LA 545 miles.

"It was beyond our believe and our imagination!" [sic]

Congratulation to our Little Girl!

Love Always,

M + D Kliengklom

Bonneville Salt Flats

the air is different here.

this is what it must feel like to be in a desert.

i'll take your picture

of you

taking a picture.

you say there's nothing to focus on...

the white expanse sharpening your features

as you squint and smile.

Bear Lake, Utah

one man's abandoned property is where

another's treasures

are found.

pull off here

there is something I want to

take a picture of.

look,

it looks better in real life. 

South Dakota

Memories are made in South Dakota.

Road side stops.

Detours just because.

Sometimes all you can do is roll down the windows

and just listen to the road.

Fight or Flight

i'll take off for a while

to build up my strength

Why Moms are Kinda the Best

On Tue, Mar 31, 2009 at 7:48 AM, Tattiya Kliengklom wrote:

Oh yeah, and she gave me a $25 gift card to Red Lobster. I gave her a big hug. There's no way in the world she could have known that RL is my guiltiest of all pleasures, the cement that holds together the bond of a near and dear friend, Liz Albertson (located in Knoxville, TN), and I together whilst landlocked in Madison, WI, unless, of course, my contention that the cheshire moon was smiling specifically for me was true. Big sigh!    

Can you say Crab Crackin' Monday?

Tattiya

From Villes to Boroughs to Burghs

The trees change from lush greens and reds and purples

to reveal rusty patches.

my heart pounds through steel to rubber to cement to earth

through bare black arteries, branching veins and thin capillaries

blurring and softening the gray skyline.

It just might be a crackhead, got a hold of the WRONG stuff.

Adventure with Crackheads / Austin, TX

So... Adriana and Marie were enlisted to offer $5 haircuts at 1808 during SXSW. Simple enough? I volunteered to get the ball rolling. Adriana gave me a very sweet french braid that wrapped around my head earlier during the day (trust, it was cute), and the plan was to get a bitty trim and re-braid. Trim? Done. JUST as Adriana starts the french braid, STRAIGHT from the alley, comes SHEILA. In all her glory. All up in Adriana's hands as she's braiding my hair. Choice quotes:

"You gotta wet ALL that."

"You gotta use the comb. Get all that baby hair."

"Here, let me show you."

"You gotta pinch it."

"Baby, am I hurtin' you?"

"I'mma make my own style!"

"Ooh, if you were here yesterday, I would have given you microbraids, with a little bead at the end."

"When you go back to LA, and you just take them our with your fingers, your hair's gonna be CURLY curly."

The way Sheila was yanking my shit and talking, I thought it couldn't be anything else but the bomb biggety, but what she gave me was straight. up. DOOKIE. braids. WITH... 4 little rat tails at the end. She worked so hard on my hair, Adriana and I both felt uncomfortable telling her that I look like a broke-ass, first time Midwesterner visiting Nassau / RZA. AND fools were taking my picture while the shit was going down. So not pumped. 

I even tried to pop my collar to hide my rat tails, unsuccessful. Luckily when I came back to pick up the girls, hair undid, Sheila was back in the alley and did not recognize me... Moral of the story: do not, I repeat, DO NOT let crackies do your hair. Either that, or I need to grow a set of balls, and speak my mind when crackies attempt to cornrow my shit.

           

6:37pm CMT

they say you shouldn't

for fear of what you'll lose

but i did

for as long as i could

red phantom dots accompany me on the walk back

thoughts busy with all that was gained