yesterday i was inconsolably sad. nothing could be done to ameliorate the grave circumstances of a childhood home on the brink of being forever lost. it was the realization of official homelessness and the start of unwanted real adulthood coupled with an otherwise perfect spring day shook me.
almost gone but not forgotten
but what a wonder when a kindly friend took pity on this kippy and invited me for hot chocolate. what began as a chocolately endeavor turned into a savory evening of good company, ginger chicken and the companionship of two delightful chien. ma quanto adoro i cani! one day i’ll get me one.
that's what i call a cute toot!
on another note (literally) i just received a hand written one thanking me for taking a meeting in the midst of my usual whirlwinds. the handwritten note is indeed a lost art form. one i must strike up again myself.
crane's is my go to stationary
nothing says sexy like good stationary and poor penmanship!
i have been accused of having “the handwriting of an adolescent boy,” an insult-cum-compliment i have reveled in far more often than i’d care to admit.
is spring really here? can it be? a winter has passed without my once donning my moonboots. hmph!
bounce with me!
i can’t complain.
just yesterday i took a purposeless amble only to realize it had been so long (too long!) since i had gone on such a walkabout. breathing in the bucolic air (i was in bushwick near a cemetery) it was with pleasure that i let the sun kiss my bear arms and neck. what pleasure! and a delight to have a small gadget with me that indicated–by walk’s end–i had indeed ambled a total of 1.4 miles.
pretty as a picture
slipping into sleep by evening’s end was easy…!
catch 'em while you can!
just now i also took a little toot around the corner and what delight to see the flowers beginning to bloom! even in dreary old midtown. i find an aimless walk to be an excellent time to think of friends near and far. “i should send this friend that article and that friend this funny thought!” ah life.
last night i poked my head into the bushwick starr to see what kind of theatre antics were a-brew for the kharms–i mean, russian avant garde–festival. my! what a collage of people and passions. i won’t ruin any surprises… but i do say one should purchase one’s tickets at once! nothing says “sell out” like the russian avant garde. (by “sell out” i mean a performance in which all tickets are sold, not someone or something that has given up on principles, mind you!)
karma chameleon
c’est tout pour le moment.
a bien-toot mes amis!
kippy
ps now then, for my adoring fans. i prefer ranunculus. ranunculi? why would i lie? homunculus!
i find myself in need of inspiration on this blustery morning.
i give you this marianne williamson quote:
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.’ We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we’re liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
thank you marianne. this kippy needs the sparkle of a disco ball these days!
il y a beaucoup de temps. but let that not stop us from mentioning the things we’ve been meaning to pen.
[1] first: a post entitled “lefty loosey righty tighty”
to be published the day after valentine’s day, feb. 14 2012, in which i would opine on the domesticity of love and the maddening moments of assembling ikea furniture.
read the directions the whole way through
let the old adage “lefty loosey righty tighty” be damned (!) esp. when one is not following all the instructions but trying to intuit furniture assembly from a place of feeling and internal logic. my man was done with a far more complex task in less time than my mini foot stool required and i was all the more grateful to have him in my life. although i would be grateful either way.
a nice heart shape
[2] second: a post to be called “a master at work”
in this post there would be mention of the ever fabuloso play map of virtue by the inimitable master playwright erin courtney. this kippy caught wind of readings over the summer and was blown away at the readiness of production (which was viewed the evening of feb. 14 amidst excellent company). how fine it is to see a play unfolding with all of its elements aligned. the writing was up to snuff of course (this is only to be expected from the likes of ms. courtney) .. but so was the direction, acting and design. it was an all star team and to have all cogs in a wheel working together toward an apex of performance is indeed a rare treat! the effect was delirious, dizzying, and fittingly disturbing! brava to master courtney and her fine group of artists.
map of virtue
speaking of good artistic group-troupes i must here also mention the very excellent you, my mother wherein i mistook some of the writing for gertrude stein. oops! the genie costumes were genie and worn with aplomb. ooh and also i must make note of the dreamy and stark early plays by the wooster group and mr. maxwell. what expertly executed methods to let listeners hear o’neill’s peculiar vernaculars. what stage pictures. and what good looking actors. bravi a tutti…!
early plays
[3] a post to be called “ponderous ponderings”
a chunk of text wherein this kippy ruminates on the big picture and the great beyond. details include the doldrums of mid-winter, the difficulties of directing “devised” (what a loathsome word!) work, and the general feelings of malaise one encounters upon nearing completion of a fun period of time in life (ie when the end of an MFA comes into view … not that this kippy would know anything about that. MFAs are for the birds in my view! i for one, relate more to frogs. or toads, for that matter…
hold on tight!
mr. toad’s wild ride out,
kippy
ps i almost forgot the most important mention. the passing of this fine singer from the monkees. ooh and poor whitney too. rip.
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