Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Nylund and Skjold

I'm off to Denmark tomorrow, and have been practicing the various Scandinavian languages for hours. Here's a peak at how it has gone!


Monday, February 27, 2012

East Coast A Go-Go

I am on my way back home tomorrow to see far away family and friends, and have been practicing my moves. These go out to you!:

Thursday, February 16, 2012

The Cats Will Know

Maude Fealy

Anzie and I saw The Artist together, and I am lost in a world of quiet again. See it in theaters while you can! See it with someone you love, even if that means sneaking your cat in. Now, step here into silence. 

You will hear words
old and spent and useless
like costumes left over
from yesterday's parties

Friday, February 10, 2012

Step, Clap, Go!

Growing up I thought that cheerleaders and jocks only existed on television. My early and only memories of "cheers" were girls doing step. I particularly remember junior high as a time when gals took pity on this overly tall, gangly Norwegian girl and tried to teach me what these ladies below are doing. Anyway, these cool girls bring me back to home, sweet home.

Step, Clap, Go! from Opening Ceremony on Vimeo.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

She will bring, in spite of frost, beauties that the earth hath lost

Mary Katrantzou for Topshop

A fleeting moment with the girls; their attempt at crashing into one another thwarted by the great puddle snow left us:

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Downward Ho

Anybody who has seen me do simple gross motor activites, like attempting a somersault or walking down the street, knows I don't have the best coordination. So strapping me to a board and throwing me down a hill has always seemed like a horrifying idea, and usually turns out that way. Still, living at the base of Mt.Hood, I felt like it would be a waste of my life here not to spend time in it. So every week I drive up Highway 35 and watch the world grow increasingly white until it ends at the top of a mountain with a soberingly sharp peak. There are advertisements for pricey lessons, and so I instead hop onto a lift that goes far too high, and there there, up and away. It turns out that the only way to learn how to really get down a mountain is to get stuck at the top, and so that is where you'll find me. The good thing about being bad is that I sit on my arse more than most, and get to breathe the gorgeous stillness. It's a peaceful, beautiful thing and I'm always very happy to be there.

As if the cares of human life were few,
We seek out new:
And follow fate, which would too fast pursue.
See how on every bough the birds express
In their sweet notes their happiness.
They all enjoy and nothing spare;
But on their mother nature lay their care.
Why then should man, the lord of all below,
Such troubles choose to know
As none of all his subjects undergo?

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Love, Peace and Soul

Thank you for bringing people who BROUGHT it into our living rooms, Don Cornelius.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Also known as the Church Avenue Bound G train at 3 AM

Gustave Courbet. Self Portrait/The Desperate Man

Sonnet: On Being Cautioned Against Walking On an Headland Overlooking the Sea, Because It Was Frequented By a Lunatic

by Charlotte Smith

Is there a solitary wretch who hies
To the tall cliff, with starting pace or slow,
And, measuring, views with wild and hollow eyes
Its distance from the waves that chide below;
Who, as the sea-born gale with frequent sighs
Chills his cold bed upon the mountain turf,
With hoarse, half-uttered lamentation, lies
Murmuring responses to the dashing surf?
In moody sadness, on the giddy brink,
I see him more with envy than with fear;
He has no nice felicities that shrink
From giant horrors; wildly wandering here,
He seems (uncursed with reason) not to know
The depth or the duration of his woe.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Sustenance and Covering

I leave this notice on my door
For each accustomed visitor:
'I am gone into the fields
To take what this sweet hour yields;
Reflection, you may come tomorrow,
Sit by the fireside of Sorrow.
You with the unpaid bill, Despair,
You tiresome verse-recitor, Care,
I will pay you in the grave,
Death will listen to your stave.
Expectation too, be off!
Today is for itself enough...'

Percy Bysshe Shelley