speaking walking the talk to tsunset strip and beyond

With some extra helpings of work and a few extra jobs on top of my regularly scheduled program, I have not been writing in my inkwell as much as I like to. This does not mean that I haven't been a busy bee speaking, writing and planning two fundraisers.

Here's a quick update - more to come.

SPEAKING:
October 11th: The Junior League of Los Angeles @ the Rainey House in Larchmont Village. For more information, please visit http://www.jlla.org/

November 20th: In The Flesh series at Hustler in Hollywood. More info at http://inthefleshreadingseriesla.blogspot.com/

UCLA: November TBA.

EVENTS:

I am co-producing two events with Carly Milne on Valentine's Day and April 09. More details TBD.

Past notes:

In September I was on set with Christina Ricci and Cheryl Burke for RAINN's new PSAs. They look fantastic! The videos should go live shortly

In progress:

I am plugging away at my screenplay. Please send good writing vibes my way.

Sally Doll

Sally (unedited)

I'm sally doll
stitched up by a single strand of thread
unravel my wrist
and bring me home to bed

i'm letting my insides show
such a girly show
glow in the dark turns me
right side out
i'm a doll
you're my night light glowing beside me

Sally doll
with a big stitch on her chest
tears me apart
where I used to hang my heart
UPSIDE DOWN
until all of my luck ran out

i'm stuffing more than I can stitch inside me
pick me up in one piece
you're bright enough to see
i've fallen for you

i'm sitting still now
propped up on your bed
looking at all these books you haven't read
there's no need for conversation
you see i've got marbles for my head
and I guess I should remind you
it doesn't need to mean anything to you
this position you've got me in
cause sally doll
is already dead.

- 11.16.96

Intertwined

Is it possible that I used to be a far better artist and writer than I am now? If so, is there a way to reclaim that me? I can't go backwards and I don't want to copy my own material, but I how did I get here? I've taken a good look at my artwork, and the most consistent and impressive work that may still be on par with the old me is my writing.

I was looking for a poem I wrote back in 1996 called Sally Doll. I found the shiny turquoise folder with poems married together by a single paper clip and a yellow post it on the first page where I wrote "poems before the 'incident'". Sally Doll was in there - I wrote it two days before I was raped.

Underneath are poems I wrote after the "incident" as apparently I once referred to being raped. On top of all the words words words are letters of recommendation from RAINN, NYSCASA, two mixed media project proposals, photocopies of grants I applied to (one of which I received) and correspondence between me and Lorie (my mentor and once Tisch Photo department head) and Debbie (once RAINN Executive Director). So ambitious. So determined. I remember it so well. I remember the blanket girls did not want me to follow this path - they wanted me to take the job at George Magazine , where I met JFK Jr. carrying white tulips to his office.

It wasn't my decision - they hired internally. It certainly would have been a different life altogether. Instead I am here. And you know, this is who I was before the "incident" and I'm still very dedicated to Sheila's photographs. I don't question why I was asked to take self portraits of a character partly based on me and a woman who was raped two days before I was. I recognize that I am her, not the woman, but the woman I became in the photograph - when I was thinking of how it would feel. Now I know. I am proud of my past, and proud of the me now. Somebody's gotta be. I feel like I should resurrect one of these project proposals, throw the clip off the before and after and write it all on the wall. Something's got to stick. Life is too messy for it to peel off so easily.

Debbie was my angel. She's in my bio - she should be someone I give thanks to every night. I do through my work - at least I hope so. And whatever it is that I do, I do much of it in her honor. She was the first to believe in me. The rest is paper clip metallic history.

So here's Sally Doll (next post)

New Posts of the Week

About a month ago, I came up with great weekly posts and then oops, it became a neglected draft.

Here are my new weekly posts. I will try my berry berry best to post every week :

*Media Mondays - what are we reading as something always seems to happen over the weekend
*Trial Tuesdays - in the news
*What's Happening Wednesday: events, happenings: where do you spend your free time? what charity/fundraisers/retreats/trips that inspire me
*Thoughts on Thursday: poetry, musings, free verse (not bird)
*Flickr Fridays: photographs I or other people have taken that inspire, soothe, calm, tickle the funny bone.
*Survivor Saturdays: featured survivor of the week
*Sweet Treat Sunday: whatever I'm craving - food, comfort, travel...the fabric softener that makes your sheets all warm and clean. **lol: clearly I'm not the one who does laundry in the house. That would be fabric softener that makes your sheets all warm--and fuzzy**

what my hands would say

Oh, to have two web sites, an icky blog that became too personal to be public, and way too many social networking profiles (research, people!). Well, you just dust that computer keyboard and start over again.

I just moved into a new home so right now my head is in design blogs and magazines. The place is actually clean enough so that I may write again. So there's really no excuse, really. Right?

These days I'm thinking a lot about hands. Mine are unpainted and ragged from moving, cleaning, and the usual wear and tear. Does anyone actually still wear rubber gloves to wash dishes? I was thinking about hands that are all about trust, and commitment which always makes me think of the other hands. The ones that should never touch someone else's skin.

So here's what's in my lint collector today:
-chipped china dishes
-unanswered phone calls
-a pillow top mattress
-painfully short broken finger nails
-fi the apple


and here's what came out:

What My Hands Would Say
my fingers are chipped
like a cracked hairline china dish
split between now and you know when
i stopped seeing stars
fancy dinner patterns gone to waste

the sky is falling and I just might
the sky is crying that's just about right
i'll roll with you-- the thunder and the ache
i'll sing you to sleep even when you are not awake

hammer it out some -- peforate
spread the words out and hear them reverberate
not quite what you said
not like what your heart sounds like

we're twelve times removed
in and out of black and white