Fragment, Pt.5

Again arrived quickly and returned as promised. Words vaporized into the pink room air as my thoughts were intoxicated with your presence.

Fragment is a variety of photo and pocket journal musings.
The following were taken on two disposable cameras, developed 2/22/12.

The most colorful man, Frank Correa

Nails at Linda's Tavern with my favorite story teller.

My "waiter" on Christmas day at the establishment formerly known as Turf. He said it was cheaper to go down the street and buy multiple glasses at the drugstore instead of buying a pair with his prescription.

Christmas in Seattle

Every holiday, (Thanksgiving and Christmas) when barely any other coffee shops in my neighborhood are open, I go to the Monorail Espresso. I'm always greeted by this warm and cheerful face.

Don't forget to look up, you never know what you might find.

Hazy window views through the looking glass.

Anna came for a visit during winter break. Her and Tennessee were putting on their shoes for a drunken adventure in search of Subway. I don't think they ever made it out the door because we had a pizza party that may or may not have been accompanied by dancing.

Snow Day in the International District.

Jackie & Judy - Snow Day

Met this cute Snow Man outside Bauhaus after picking up a cup of coffee.

The Courtyard in my building: beautiful, for all seasons.

Pavel, Ozma, Elfy & Frank

flowers & snow

Johnny wearing my duffle coat on a snowy day.

Chrissie, Krilly & Amanda at Bowiemas

The hostest with the mostest, Miss Rose. (Sounds more like, missing, Rose.) We danced a short dance before she ran back into the crowded mess of champagne, glitter and glam.

Stalking Kirra

I admire a woman that can expose her breasts with hot pink x's in public.

The lovely Ursula Rose with Tennessee.

Chrissie White, photographer and fun time party girl.

For endless laughs and someone to share the peace pipe with, call Claire.

A man of many disguises.

Apparently, Olivia caught whatever the guy standing next to her had in his eye.

Matt & Luke.

Sarah & Kirra

Bright colored high heels? Yes, please.

We gathered in a small pack and set forth to a party that I can hardly remember.

good night.


Fragment, Pt.4

I have not the ability to utter a word.
Even if I shout, I fear it may go unheard.
Blown –
Away in the wind.

“Silly little girl,
Get those thoughts out of your head”
(Grin)
As I continue on -
Ahead.

Sins –
Not told in this confession.
My feet are stumbling
My cheeks are blushing
At the sight of my obsession.

Question?
I know not where it stems…
Not a what, how or when.

Even still,
My curiosity lingers on…
Because I don’t know when
My infatuation will be crushed –
And these butterflies…
Gone.

Fragment is a variety of photo and pocket journal musings.
The following were taken on a disposable camera. 





Fragment, pt.3

I see you, but you don’t see me.
Just another pass me by on the street.
Steal a glance, take no chances,
As I focus on my eyes deceit.

Thoughts manifest into nighttime dreams.
I’m sorry, but you don’t know,
That I pretend you’re here with me.

A life never lived,
Feelings never felt.
Reality presented when illusions cards are dealt.

No ill words will be spoken.
No hearts will be broken.
A stranger who brought upon this fascination,
Will remain a part of my imagination.

Fragment is a variety of photo and pocket journal musings.
The following were taken on a Yashica Auto Focus Motor-D, developed 7/1/2011


Fragment, pt.2

Haunted dreams of what could be
Has hindered me from seeing a reality-
Not far from the one that exists.

Illusion clouds my emotions with hesitation
Hidden agendas lead me to unknown destinations
Searching endlessly for something that could be a part of the imagination.

Blindly, I’ve stumbled my way into a labyrinth with no exit.
Walls so high that I can’t see…
The obvious sitting right in front of me.
Headed towards misery-
Could this be a test?

I want to lay my head down, close my eyes and rest.
I don’t want any trouble…
I don’t want to hang around only to find…
Myself shot down and unable to get up off the ground.


Fragment is a variety of photo and pocket journal musings.
The following were taken on a Yashica Auto Focus Motor-D, developed 7/1/2011




Unknown Mortal Orchestra

Recently, while cruising back to the crib in the late hour; a friend was playing something that stimulated my aural sense. I was already intoxicated with the presence of my present company (not to mention those Jack & Gingers) and the endorphin rush from dancing earlier in the night. Unknown Mortal Orchestra. Luckily, a copy found way into my possession (that has since been playing on repeat, at work and home.) I love those moments when music is like a new romance, where you spend hour after hour, enjoying each others company.

It was a good day indeed. An even better one when I began to “research” the band (or stalk, whichever you prefer) and found that they would be playing a show at The Crocodile, which I attended and enjoyed very much (and it wasn’t the jack & ginger.)


The Cocktail Party

 

“We die to each other daily. What we know of other people is only our memory of the moments during which we knew them. And they have changed since then. To pretend that they and we are the same is a useful and convenient social convention which must sometimes be broken. We must also remember that at every meeting we are meeting a stranger.” – T.S. Eliot, The Cocktail Party


Unsent Letters


Fragment, pt. 1

Summer in Seattle. The skies are gray and every so often, the sun comes out to play. This bipolar weather pattern seems to make the natives and transplants restless. I don’t mind. Too much exposure to the heat and sun irritates my sensitive skin. There once was a time when I thought that I was allergic to a person. With a lingering touch or a hug, my skin would get irritated, turn red, and swell. We eventually stopped hugging; otherwise I could have died.

He was allergic to bees. I wish I was a bee.

Fragment is a variety of photo and pocket journal musings.
The following were taken on a Yashica Auto Focus Motor-D, developed 6/24/2011.


The Baroques – Mary Jane


What is the quality of your intent?

“Certain people have a way of saying things that shake us at the core. Even when the words do not seem harsh or offensive, the impact is shattering. What we could be experiencing is the intent behind the words. When we intend to do good, we do. When we intend to do harm, it happens. What each of us must come to realize is that our intent always comes through. We cannot sugarcoat the feelings in our hearts of hearts. The emotion is the energy that motivates. We cannot ignore what we really want to create. We should be honest and do it the way we feel it. What we owe to ourselves and everyone around is to examine the reasons of our true intent.”

“My intent will be evident in the results.”
-Thurgood Marshall


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