Tag: seattle

in for a penny, in for a pound

Seaside Improvisation, by Richard Siken

I take off my hands and I give them to you but you don’t
want them, so I take them back
and put them on the wrong way, the wrong wrists. The yard is dark,
the tomatoes are next to the whitewashed wall,
the book on the table is about Spain,
the windows are painted shut.
Tonight you’re thinking of cities under crowns
of snow and I stare at you like I’m looking through a window,
counting birds.
You wanted happiness, I can’t blame you for that,
and maybe a mouth sounds idiotic when it blathers on about joy
but tell me
you love this, tell me you’re not miserable.
You do the math, you expect the trouble.
The seaside town. The electric fence.
Draw a circle with a piece of chalk. Imagine standing in a constant cone
of light. Imagine surrender. Imagine being useless.
A stone on the path means the tea’s not ready,
a stone in the hand means somebody’s angry, the stone inside you still
hasn’t hit bottom.

-::-

I’m going to Seattle today, a two o’clock bus that should get me there around six. It feels almost criminal because of the weather outside, crisp, bright, so promising. There was snow on the ground last night when my lover drove me home, my bare feet sank into it by an inch while walking on the gravel behind his home. Earlier lightning, small dark rolls of quiet thunder.

My body bleeds today where I was rough with it last night. I am torn. Bruised, too, with carnations of gentle blue and yellow across my back like insomnia’s physical manifestation, a rebellion of capillaries protesting against lack of sleep. I am shamed that I hurt so much, so easily. The mirror will not meet my eyes. Everything aches – my devotion, the stress of it, the one drop of blood.

bittersweet week

THE BROTHERS QUAY DO STANISLAW LEM’s MASKA!!

My plans have been falling through left, right, and center the last few days, near unbelievably so, but there’s been just enough nice to make up for it. I had two shoots this past weekend, one with Mishka and Jim, who wanted engagement photos, headshots, and wedding invitations, and another with Shane for promotional photos for his new website, and I might be spending this upcoming weekend in Seattle, following my dear friends The Mutaytor as they kick off their Pacific Northwest tour. (I was given an iPod touch for the engagement photos, too, which means I NOW HAVE INTERNET IN MY POCKET. So. Exciting!). Good times!

Today I’m processing my photos from the weekend, picking through and polishing, getting into the sort of flow I can get lost in for hours, and writing poetry back and forth with New York. I’ve already finished my first run through the engagement photos and soon I’ll be finished with Shane’s pictures, and then it will be time to start making Valentine’s dinner for my sweetheart, who I look forward to seeing. Things there have been an odd, bohemian mix of blissful and bizarrely unreliable, dotted with both raw adoration and vast misunderstandings, so the prospect of an actual “date” night, though unusual, is somewhat reassuring.

grieving

I am fine until very suddenly I am not, chopped off at the knee by a memory cascade triggered by the most banal of things. I idly think of cleaning the shower curtain, running it through the wash, and instantly I flash to the one Tony and I bought together in Seattle, printed with a map of the world of colourful countries, indelibly marked with borders and cities in small black letters and a thousand domestic memories. Cleaning the bathroom mirror the day we moved in, hot water, hair dye, kissing through the clear plastic expanse of the Baltic Sea, the day I put his painting up in the kitchen next to the oversized pocket watch clock I bought for the wall, hauled on the bus from Vancouver as the perfect housewarming present, the evening we curled up on the floor of the bedroom closet, reading children’s stories by flashlight in the artificial dark. Hours spent in every room of a home we built for two, an apartment we found together, it’s all there, trapped in the recollection of one simple object, one of hundreds I’ve examined or held in my hands.

things to do this weekend, vancouver & seattle

Seattle’s big post-burn arty dance-party, Seacompression, is this weekend, so I’m off to Seattle today, back on Monday. Last year we arrived late and missed most of the shows, but we’re hoping to ride-share with someone this year and have a better time. (Also, this time we’re wearing much warmer clothes, just sayin’.) Due to my dislocated ankle and other injuries, it’s been maybe an entire year since I’ve gone dancing, so it’s going to be extra exciting to get out there and shake some groove-thing.

Also for those in Seattle, Cherie has a book signing tomorrow at the Northgate Barnes & Noble at 6 p.m. Y’all should come down and meet one of the princesses of pulp and support a local artist by buying a copy of her newest novel, Dreadnought, sequel to her run-away steampunk zombie success, Boneshaker.

Vancouver is hopping this weekend too. Tonight is the Fullmoon Steampunk Extravaganza, (w. The Gentle Infidels, Darker the Sky, Corset, and our very own DJ Spaz), from 7 p.m. – 2 a.m. at Century House on Richards st, and tomorrow is this year’s Work Less Party Party Halloween Party Masquerade Ball, from 8 p.m. – 2 a.m. at the Japanese Hall, 487 Alexander Street.

cleaning and driving lessons, satisfaction and fear

A user’s guide to websites, part 1: If it wasn’t broken why fix it?

Last day in Seattle, I’m using it up the best I can, tidying the chaos, taking on the bedroom, battling the entropy Tony’s apartment seems to have developed in my absence. (This entire trip has been well spent: conquering the post-burning man disaster, finally introducing Tony to Jake Appelbaum, running into Rafael, bringing a successful dinner to newly-pregnant Becca…) It comforts me, seeing how much of my influence is still embedded here, even as I’ve been feeling shut out, trapped in Canada, by sickness, injuries and finances.

So far I’ve unearthed six full loads of laundry, a number of books we’ve been meaning to read, two previously buried suitcases, two large boxes of miscellany, a full length mirror, a bed canopy, and the floor. Also, I must admit, a significant amount of housewifely satisfaction. There’s a possibility that he may not notice how much effort I put into improving his surroundings, but it brings me comfort anyway, just to be able to give back.

I also signed up for driving lessons with Young Drivers of Canada today. My mother’s ex, Pat, offered a few months ago to pay for driving lessons, and now that I’m on the dole, I can afford to take the time to follow through. My first class is on Wednesday, October 13th, somewhere out by Metrotown, and continue for a total of eight classes, Monday and Wednesday evenings, until November 8th. I’m vaguely terrified, given that cars are big, speedy, heavy death machines, but on the other hand, if that idiot down the street who catcalls me at the bus-stop can learn to drive, so can I.

Keep the Jigsaw Renaissance going strong.

Willow

Darling Willow, head mischief maker and leader of the Seattle-based Jigsaw Renaissance makerspace.


Jigsaw has recently moved to a beautiful new home on Capitol Hill, but requires more community support in order to stay there, as the rent is higher in the new space than it was in the warehouse district warren it inhabited before. Do you need regular access to a makerspace or know someone who does? Join now! Membership gives you access to various tools, a machineshop, a get-your-hands-dirty peergroup, and a sturdy workbench to use them all on. When I was there late last week as part of their Saturday open house, there were 3d printed earrings, night-vision capable copper robots, and a fuzzed out rubber band mint-tin guitar on display, someone was playing Bach on a digital reproduction of a pipe organ, and one table was completely surrounded by people arm in arm, acting as human conductors for the electricity needed for an LED display.