Month: June 2004

Flyer:
http://www.thelickclub.com/weekly/spiked.jpg

The LICK club
http://www.thelickclub.com/

For the last week, every time either Andrew or Ellen are on  my friends page, thier entries are right next to eachother and they’re talking about doing the exact same things. It’s terribly amusing. I don’t know how it is they manage to be posting at exactly the same time over and over.  When the Livejournal Meet-up happened this week – it was THREE people in a row talking about eachother and the same thing. I suppose this is what happens when LiveJournal  becomes pleasingly inscestuous. I like it.

 

 

Ray is brilliant.

Everyone! GO HERE!!

Someone has created MUSIC out of windows sounds, using ONLY Windows Sound Recorder.

Ian just pointed out that something I did today was pretty cool, so I thought I’d share.

I cranked the music a bit once I was back this morning, and after a bit I noticed there were some kids out front the building, really into my music. So I wrote down my playlist on a piece of paper and sent it down to them as a paper airplane. They were really embarrassed to be caught being dancy, but it didn’t stop them from taking the paper before running away.

heh

Aww. I got a letter from the Ex today. I am very amused. It’s the kind of letter that let’s me use the term, so that’s neat. Never got to do that before. Everyone always leaves town. Well – the ones that count leave town. Me included.
nice to see security

Your voice, it’s hovering over my mind. The paper of your skin I can
bring to mind, but your voice, it’s like a satellite I can’t take
down.. I’m waiting for the signal to transmute to sound, but I won’t
call you to take it. I can feel it, next to me. It slips away, like the
sleepless nights full of words we say.  It will be a gift you can
give me, like your name in my mouth. 

I walked into this not expecting anything. Now I feel like I’m climbing
through an echo. The innocence is open again. It is too perfect that we
both carried the people and not the names.  Meeting you is
creating realizations. Seventeen. The age of those shiny magazines with
thier plastic smiles that only exist in my doctors office. I didn’t own
a dress then and my hair was still the colour of damp straw.  I
was reading out the day I knew you were leaving when you watched last
night. I am falling.

I’m not at liberty to say
How a secret
message came for you today

For a moment I wondered what  would happen when I met you
again. Simple and colour clean. A moment in a black and white movie –
all lines and movement. I told you and you made my eyes catch thier
breath with only one phrase.

I’m like a mirror baby
I refract light back
at you
So silent, so thin, so tricky now
We do the things that lovers
do

I’m not at liberty to say
How a secret message came for you
today
It holds the secrets of my heart and my mind
It tells of vast
expanses stretching backwards over time

Two objects at equal
distance
Acting as if they care
Does weight follow mass in this
instance?
Oh, E equals MC squared

I’m not at liberty to say
How a
secret message came for you today
It holds the secrets of my heart and my
mind
It tells of vast expanses stretching backwards over time

rasputina : secret message

well – I have now proved myself beyond self-esteem again. As Shane was
enthusing about me, I told him he was breaking my click-track heart.
Then I had to explain what a click-track is. “It’s what you use to
synch sound to visuals”

Do you know how much of my world is spinning now?

Revelation fire darling.
Set and match . You’re coming with me.

Simple addition. Add this in the mathematic of feeling at four in the morning, five thier time:
 
igne ferroque

So it seems the camera has collected a camfan. Her name’s . I don’t know her at all, but she wrote me some poetry. 

ACT 1: The Meeting. Your love is still fresh in my mind. I danced in the apartment rather than out and ran the last half block home. You could laugh if I didn’t know that you were doing it too. Soft souls are contagious late at night.  Faces screenlit. The virus of remembering catches you unaware in the dark.”breathe into my hands, a cup, like a glass to drink from” There are no metal bowls to amplify anymore, and though I still attack strangers in my sleep, I can’t wait to hear you say my name again.

INTERLUDE: The girl arrives, stage left. She is painted up to look as a whore, but is really the mistress in disguise. Her fear leads her to disaster. *audience laughter* The anti-hero carries her off. Black.

ACT 2: The Supposition. My mother was over today. I told myself to jump right in. It’s only fire, after all. I’d forgotten that I couldn’t tell her before. I could show her nothing. It happened once that I moved out and she never noticed. No one else can tell that time. Only you and only I. History magnified through snatches of memory. Working together, we could tell who we were, but it’s not who I am. Every minute accounted for..We’re slipping into this so easily.

intermission – chocolate to be found in the lobby

ACT 3: The Failure. I can’t imagine what I was to you, how it is that we’re suddenly even. I want to ask questions, but uselessly so. Everything is unfolding, a painted roll of cloth spilling out onto this text floor. You said tonight, but I arrived too late.