AMP: Artists' Meeting Place and Resource Collective

8 August 2006

Magick is an alternate mode of ego development. Instead of getting your self image from other people through conversation and interaction, you get it from the universe by addressing it as though it were something to be conversed with.

7 August 2006

I'm just really uncomfortable talking to people - I rarely feel like I communicate effectively with anyone about anything; even the most basic concept gets lost in the transmission.

And writing is even worse. Every time I read something, it sounds different to me. I write things down and I have no idea how they will be received on the other end of things.

Writing a simple email is a total chore for me because even a single paragraph can take an hour of revision before I can commit. I write a sentence and erase it. Write and erase, write and erase. Finally, it gets sent, often days or weeks after I had originally intended to send it, and soon I find myself obsessing over whether I was too honest, whether my attempts at humor are lame, whether the sentences could even be parsed in a way that makes any kind of sense. And then I reread it over and over again, and it looks like the ramblings of a crazy person.

I've lost some momentum in the past few days . . . I really can't afford to slow down . . .

Fuel the fire by doing the things that made you excited when you first decided that you would do them. Especially things that make no sense to you.

It's like ivy, moss, and mold. They prey on the stationary. They are agents of entropy.

There's a long list before you. Don't forget your commitments, but don't let them stifle you, either. It's more important to act on the strong, new ideas while they are strong and new.

"People who are interesting are people that are interested."

I've been holding back many entries because I think they're stupid, and I wanted to make them not sound so stupid before posting them. But that's a pretty stupid thing to do, because the whole point of this thing is to be honest and uncalculating, to let a Gestalt emerge from the fragments of ideas I put out. So here come the fragments - let's throw 'em against the wall and see what sticks!

Good grief, Joe, I realized this morning that when you died last June you took me with you for these past 15 months. Motherpeace made it crystal clear this morning with the Death card and I'm blessed to have watched my own process. So now it's time to pick up the bones to see what the future brings. Wonder if I can find that medicine bag that had the snakeskin in it.

In limbo , but in this particular instance ,the wait is moving faster than I would like.

I never said it was a vacation....

It's all the heavy lifting and grunt work of the mind, not having to be onstage , but fingers working to the bone behind the scenes.

I prefer the vacation at this time.

There are no vacations.

Even my "time off " is work.

No wasted scraps left on the plate.

I don't know how "the Stars " do it.

They work on a zillion projects, get photographed, talk about what reading material is on the bedside table, get married and divorced and fall in love again ,and are seen shopping at the most exclusive boutiques while on vacation....

I've been writing, mostly journaling for two weeks now, something I all but gave up between the job, dance classes and driving. Almost too many ideas whirling through this crazy head of mine.... And I actually made a piece of jewelry last night - no, a whole set - pendant and earrings. I wore them to work today and got one order - but she asked for a piece a long time ago and I never got around to it, so it'll be a freebie. I intend to make it an exquisite freebie at that.

I noticed that the convenience store down the street has very little in their display case and asked about consignment.

I think I'm feeding an obsession for organization. My vision for the AMP international arts directory is so massive in scope, I can find an entry pretty much every time I look anywhere. It's going to be years before the flow of information slows down! Tonight was very productive, and I can't seem to make myself really stop. The more I put in, the more I can imagine that needs to be put in. As of tonight, I guess we could say that arts festivals in Australia and more sedate music festivals in Hungary are covered. And who knew there were so very many fringe festivals in this world? All I knew about before was the one in Edinburgh, but there's also a fringe (or several) in Australia, and one (or more) in Hungary.

Well, you just can't escape them, those evil Cube Ghouls. I left the warped vortex of flesh-eaters and soul-suckers in Washington, D.C. eight months ago to land in the land of laid-back tolerance. No, not California. MAINE whose motto is "The Way Life Should Be." So here I was in pine country looking for work and lo and behold I espy the empowering graffiti declaring "Demand the Impossible." SUre enough, I obtain gainful employ as an online auction coordinator for a local non-profit (a Time Bank, a really cool concept). It was too good to be true: my own corner office, my own project, carte blanche creative license.

August 9, 2006 9am

Angular poetry revolving down jagged slopes. Absinthe splash and flow through shattered goblet.

We feel fine.

Music and mutterings and shouting and laughter. Pigments foot-smeared cross hardwood floor. Frayed paintings melt into one another.

Hangman. The answer is "flatulence".

Cashed bowls, slashed canvas and broken glass. Strange kisses, uncomfortable hugs, dizzy goodbyes. A creaky fire escape and a very well behaved rabbit.

Here is the love.

A quarter of a lifetime's drawings, photography, and paintings, scattered and trampled. The debris of the new season.