Black Friday
I need to wash my car.
I need to redo my hair so that the greenish part is the color I actually want: turquoise.
I need to make some phone calls.
I need to make new business cards.
I need to write my morning pages.
I need to write some taxi stories.
But all I want to do is knit!
|
.: posted by Vera 
|
|
Podular Manifestation
I went to Synergenesis on Saturday. I went there because
1. I talked to my friend Trish on the phone that afternoon and she was about to head over there.
2. I knew that my friend Kyle, who is also Trish's new husband, was going to sell his photo book called West Coast Vibe there, and I'm in the book.
3. It was at Red Ink Studios and I have an infatuation with Red Ink Studios and sometimes fantasize about having my paintings in there.
My favorite parts of the conference were hanging out with Trish, a very spiritual beat poetry performance by Saul Williams, and this huge painting called Podular Manifestation. The painting is by an artist named Xavi. I love the painting because
1. It's so bubbly and podular. I love anything that has to do with bubbles and pods.
2. I like anything that mentions the word manifestation.
3. I had a vision earlier this year of a world that looks kind of like that painting, a world that's mostly purple where people hang out on these elevated platforms and pods that are all lined with neon green fur.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
I love people that make me giggle
There is this guy who works at Farley's. One time I was standing at the counter, and nobody was ready to take my order yet, so I threw my head back and put eye drops into my left eye. When I put my head back in its normal position, the guy was standing right in front of me looking at me. I giggled and then I said "A double iced mocha, please."
Today I was at Farley's knitting(!). I was sitting at a relatively large square table. There were two chairs besides mine. The guy walked by my table, grabbed a chair from the other side of the room, lifted it up over his head and then walked to my table. "I noticed that your invisible friend was standing up, so..." he said. He put the chair down next to my table. I giggled and said "Thanks." He waved at the invisible person on the new chair and said "No problem." And I could not stop giggling. I loved the idea that my invisible friend was knitting too.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
Knitting!
So on Thursday I learned how to knit. My friend Angie taught me, and it appears that I was a very quick learner. This is funny to me considering that my mom tried to teach me knitting many years ago, and I thought it was too complicated, and the thread kept slipping off my kneedles, and I felt like I had no control, and I quickly gave up frustratedly.
It was actually through doing the exercises in the Artist's Way that I discovered my dormant desire to start knitting a couple of weeks ago. And this week I got Angie's invitation to knit night. I love when things fall into place like that. And now I can knit! And I totally love it. It's so fun and relaxing. Plus, I'm making shit. I can't wait to make the second arm warmer.
My first knitting project
Originally uploaded by Verabug.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
Primal longing
On Tuesday night at Burning Man I had a soul-splitting experience. I tried to explain what happened to the guy who squatted next to me and listened to me babble on for a while, but I don't think he quite got it, or maybe I didn't articulate it well. So I'll try it again here. I think what happened can be summed up with one sentence: I have issues.
So it was Tuesday night and I was at the False Profit party. I had been dancing with the mushroom goddess for a while and was having a grand old time. I felt like I was on top of the world, like anything could happen, like I could summon up all kinds of energies to experience anything I wanted. That's when I saw a shadowy creature with a hood. I recognized him, not right away but eventually with alarming clarity. It was him. Let's call him Shan even though that is definitely not his name. I had seen him at San Francisco parties for the last two years, and I was so attracted to him I was rendered speechless and motionless in his presence. I may have been introduced to him once or twice but we never acknowledged that we knew each other. I always looked away when I saw him because I felt so self-conscious around him. He made me feel deeply inferior. Yet, because I was so attracted to him, I imagined that he was also attracted to me. But considering how inferior I feel to him, how could he be attracted to someone that inferior? He couldn't. And that's okay, and I had accepted this over two years ago. The way I see him, and I realize I am projecting a lot of greatness onto him that's probably grossly unwarranted, is that he is very spiritual and lives purely from his soul. He is guided by his intuition and by his body. He never has to do small talk with people. His presence is so otherworldly and regal that people don't dare bother him with "How is it going"'s or "What have you been up to"'s. He also doesn't have to pay bills. Neither does he shit because he is not really human.
But back to Tuesday night at Burning Man. I spotted this wondrous creature with the mysterious dark hood, his eyes glinting, and my heart started pounding. "Oh my god," I thought, "there he is." As he walked through the dancers, our eyes met and locked for a moment. Something warm and wet started spreading between my legs. I could feel an energy between us, an energy that had been wanting to be set free. But because of my self-consciousness and general stiffness and awkwardness, it had never been able to come out. But now I had the power of the mushroom goddess, and things were different, I thought. Plus, I had gotten a lot more spiritual and organic since I last saw him. We were closer to the same level now, spiritually speaking. He came closer to me on the dance floor, and I knew I was right. Something different was about to happen. But when he walked by me, I looked away again in shyness. This happened several times. I felt like he could actually feel that there was a potential, but I was too awkward to let it happen. That's when I knew that I was ruining it again. I was not allowing the energy to flow. I was restricting the energy with my own awkwardness and fear. I was my own worst enemy. I was manifesting the opposite of what I wanted because that's what I was vibrating. I was still vibrating "Do not talk to me. I am not worthy. I am beneath you."
I lost him in the crowd. Then I saw him again. He was squatting on the ground, playing with a wand. I squatted down next to him. I said "Hi." He looked at me and looked away and said "Hi." The magic was gone. I looked at the wand and said "What are you gunna do with that?" He said "I'm gonna light it on fire." "Right here?" I said. "Yeah, if there is enough room." He got up, lit the wand on fire and danced with it. It was one of those wands with an invisible string attached to it, so that it looks like the person dancing with it is a wizard. There was a guy watching him who said "Sick sick sick!" Earlier in the night I had heard him yell the same thing at the DJ. I thought he was pretty lame. But I felt like I was pretty lame myself. I hadn't achieved even close to the level of human being as the object of my desire, Shan. I still had a long way to go.
And that is my issue. This is not the first time that I have perceived somebody as spiritually superior. What does that even mean? To me, I think what it means is that a person is looser, warmer, more open-hearted, more flexible, more intuitive than I am. The truth is that I am loose enough, warm enough, open-hearted enough, flexible enough, and intuitive enough. I am ENOUGH. I don't need to be more than I am. Thinking that there is something inferior about me is nothing but self-hatred and self-battery. But yet I am faced with this again and again. What I need to do is see myself as perfectly spiritual because that's the only way I can be on the same level as other perfectly spiritual people. Shan, in my eyes, is perfectly spiritual. And if I see myself as perfectly spiritual, then so am I. But I don't see myself that way right now. I see myself as still having work to do. But then again, don't we all? Clearly, Shan still has work to do too. That's because nobody ever really arrives; we all just keep journeying.
I need to accept that I am just fine the way I am, spiritually and otherwise. Not inferior or superior, just fine. That way other people won't perceive me as inferior either. And you could say that Shan doesn't see me as inferior anyway, that it's all just in my imagination, that I am probably just neutral to him. But I think on some deep, cellular level, he does see me as inferior because that's how I see myself.
That Tuesday night, all I could do is squat next to the dance floor to, literally, get a different perspective of the situation. That's when this guy squatted next to me and asked me what was up. He also lived in San Francisco and had a British accent. I spilled everything to him. I didn't hold back a thing. I kept belittling myself and saying "You must think I'm crazy" or "I must be boring you to death." But he kept listening. He probably wanted to get laid. He said "I want to see this guy. Can you point him out to me?" We got up and I led him to the area of the dance floor where I had last seen Shan. But he wasn't anywhere to be found. I started dancing again. The British guy danced too. After a while I stood and looked for Shan again. The British guy walked up next to me. He squeezed his mouth tight, turned his head and left. I knew he had finally had enough of my hopeless infatuation and inferiority complex. And frankly, so had I.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
Things I am thankful for today
- I am thankful that I finally thought of something to write about on here, even if it's a list and therefore lazy and rather lame.
- I am thankful for alone time and that I just ordered a book called Journal of a Solitude.
- I am thankful that I always have the option to pick up the phone and whine into my aunt's ear. She said absolutely anytime and by that she meant including the hours between midnight and 5am.
- I am thankful for the two translation projects I did this week.
- I am thankful for the painting I made today, titled Creative Block.
- I am thankful for my ability to get angry at the universe because that anger results in angry tears. With every burst of tears I release baggage and am one step closer to total freedom.
- I am thankful for my beautiful friend Angie with whom I met up today and had a great conversation about painting, galleries, and boys of course.
- I am thankful that I cancelled the dinner plans I had for tonight and instead am going to go to knit night with Angie. I fucking can't wait to knit!
- I am thankful for the sewing class I signed up for the other day.
- I am thankful for the awesome two wrist belts I bought from some guy near Union Square. You should totally go find that guy and get some for yourself.
- I am thankful that I'm sexually active right now.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
The first SF girl cabbie convention
Yesterday I met up with my friend Susan. A few months ago she had asked me all kinds of questions about my taxi driving. She had said "I think I want to do that too. It sounds like fun." She has now been driving for Luxor for a few weeks. So yesterday we got together to share some of our experiences. Overheard in our conversation were things like
"I had my first crackhead the other day."
"Do you ever get weird guys hitting on you?"
"The more hung-over I am, the more tips I get."
"I love the flexibility and freedom you have as a cab driver."
"We should take a break together while we're both driving this Saturday."
It was a fun little convention, and I'm sure we'll have another one soon. We're also talking about doing a zine. And opening our own girly pink taxi company. I'm so happy that there is another cool* young girl cab driver out there, and that she loves it as much as I do.
*Yes, I am presuming that Susan and I are both cool. Because we are.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
What's hard for me right now
It's hard for me that I can't be with my family right now. I really wish I was there. It's making me bawl that I am not.
They are all spending a lot of time together right now, getting closer, letting down the walls that are usually up, talking about death and life after death, and I really wish I could be part of all of that. And I am part of it but only in spirit, and somehow that is not enough for me right now. Because I surely could use a hug or two.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
Mourning
My phone rang in the middle of the night. It was my mom. She left a message saying "Opa ist gestorben." My grandpa has died. He was 83.
Earlier this year, my mother's mother died, and now my father's father has died.
I could feel my grandpa's energy very strongly this morning. I think he is going to be my new spirit guide. That means I have seven now.
My grandpa wasn't really sick. He just decided to go to sleep and not wake up again. My grandma was surprised how long he slept this morning. But it turned out he was dead. He died sometime between 3am and 8am Central European Time.
His name was Hermann Fleischer. He was born on March 5, 1923. I can't believe he is dead.
He was born in Rheine, Germany, about 15 miles from where I grew up. He and my grandma met when they were both 16. They told me the story once. They had met near a bus stop, and my grandma had just bought a new coat, and my grandpa and his friends asked her to try it on for them. My grandpa had to go to war shortly after they met. He fought against the Russians in WWII while my grandma was at home dodging bombs. Both of them could have died any minute, but they didn't. My grandpa told me that towards the end of he war he was once chased by a Russian soldier. My grandpa ran away out onto a pier. It was starting to sink. The Russian decided not to follow him onto the pier, and my grandpa was glad. He also told me that when he finally returned from the war, he was so tired that he slept while walking home.
My grandparents got married in 1946. Their sixty year wedding anniversary would have been this Sunday. Two years later, they had their first child, Willi, which is short for Wilhelm. That was my dad. Four years after that, they had Inge, which is short for Ingeborg. That's my aunt who visited me recently.
My grandpa worked in a factory. He became a department manager. His work brought my grandparents to South Carolina for two years in the early 80's. My dad went to visit them while they were there. My mom, my sister, my brother, and I were all supposed to go with him, but my parents decided at the last minute that it would be too difficult to travel with three small children. I was only 5 but I remember being really disappointed that I didn't get to go to America. I think my early longing for America was a foreshadowing for what was going to happen later in my own life.
I used to think that my grandpa was American. He looked a little bit like Ronald Reagan and well, he lived in America! He was American, I insisted. I was only 5. By the time I was 10, I probably realized that he wasn't actually American.
His work also brought my grandparents to Portugal for a year. That was after America. After Portugal, they moved to Greven, where they have lived ever since. It's a town just a few miles from my parents' house. They lived in a small condo, which they owned.
When we were little, my grandpa used to tell us stories about his adventures with wild animals. He had fought lots of wild animals, he said. And he always found ways to trick them. For instance, one time a rhinoceros was chasing him, and he hid behind a tree, and the rhinoceros tried to stab him with its horn, and the horn got stuck in the tree. So my grandpa just walked away. He also told a story about this crocodile that was trying to eat him. He grabbed the top and the botton of the crocodile's mouth with both of his hands and stuck a stick in it to keep it open. Then he reached his hand all the way into the crocodile's body, grabbed the inside of the crocodile's tail, pulled and turned the whole crocodile inside out! They were the best stories.
So this morning I found out that he had died. And at first I couldn't cry at all. But then my mom told me that my sister had cried a lot when she had found out. And it made me sad to know that my sister was so sad, and that made me cry. And as soon as my dad came on the phone and I heard his completely flat voice, I started crying too. I can't even imagine what it must be like for him. I just want to give him a really big hug and not let go for a long time.
My grandpa and grandma in 1993
I took the day off today so that I can mourn. Once again, I am so glad that I have the flexibility to take a day off if I need to be sad.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
Half-birthday
Yesterday was my half-birthday.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
One of my favorite pictures of all times
One of my favorite pictures of all times
Originally uploaded by Verabug.
It was taken in September 1998. We were in my room and on my bed. It was my going-away party before I moved from Victorville to Pomona to continue my education at Cal Poly Pomona.
The two guys facing the camera are Ricky and Michael. They ended up making out later, and I have a picture of that too. The guy gnawing on me is Adam.
I don't even know how we ended up on my bed, but it was so much fun. I wish I did this kind of stuff more often. I don't even know what to call it. Group-wrestling or something?
At some point that night Michael said to me "When we first met, I didn't think we liked each other very much." I said "Yeah, I know, we definitely didn't." But now we did! I actually never saw any of these guys again but I'm so glad I have this picture.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
Sometimes good things do happen
I haven't done any freelance Flash work in the last three weeks. I have been driving a taxi more, and I'm leaving the rest up to the universe. And here are some of the things that have happened since then.
- I got an email inquiring if I wanted to sign a one-year contract to write daily horoscope/psychic readings for a website. It fell through because they hired somebody cheaper than me, but still! It's the thought that counts.
- I found out about an opportunity to do paid psychic readings at the Exotic Erotic Ball. It fell through because they already had enough psychics, but still!
- A girl started talking to me at a coffee shop and ended up making an appointment with me for a counseling session. She ended up canceling the appointment, but still!
- Somebody emailed me wanting to hire me for a party to do readings for ten people. That hasn't fallen true, although it still might, but still!
- Today I did some German translation work downtown for two hours.
Even though things don't always work out, I am so thankful to even get these kinds of emails and inquiries. I know that it's just going to get more and more over time, and more and more stuff will work out. When I was in Hawaii, I actually had a dream that exactly this was going to happen--that I was going to get all these emails inquiring about my work--and now that has come true. Now some of these emails just have to go a little further than just being emails, and I'll be all set. But for now, opportunities and potential exist, and that makes me excited.
And about the translation work. I had responded to a listing on guru.com about a German translation gig. The guy called me on Wednesday and I agreed to come to his office this afternoon. He said it would take about two hours. He just wanted me to read these German articles about a company he was doing research on and paraphrase what the articles said. He paid me well, and it was easy work for me. When I left his office, a check in my pocket, I felt so good. As I walked back to the Muni station, I looked up at the high rises downtown. It was starting to get dark. I suddenly felt so thankful for the life I have. I feel so free. It's so nice to be able to go into an office for two hours and then be done with it and not come back, unless he calls me again, and even then I can say yes or no.
Every week is a new adventure, and I never know if anybody is going to want my services--counseling, writing, painting, translating, or whatever else--but if somebody does, it's a special treat and feels like a privilege. Every time somebody wants my services, it's surprising and exciting. It's so different from being locked in to show up every single week day at the same place and have to stay there for eight hours. It now feels like I call the shots, and that is such a great feeling.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
I miss them so much
Calm
Originally uploaded by SFAntti.
|
.: posted by Vera
|
|
|
|
|
