art project

May 11, 2012

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about making art. This is a practice I haven’t been taking part in much recently because of the serious fap-fest that is Crossing Jordan on netflix instant. Goodbye social life! In any case, spring is in full swing in the Rose City, I’ve finally been medicated for a lingering anxiety problem I didn’t know I had, and the sun has decided to come out of its exaggerated hibernation. The longed for days of sweater weather are drawing to a close, and my face is slowly morphing into a river of summertime. (When I say river, I’m not being superfluous. I sweat like, crazy nasty if the temp is above 60.) BACK TO YOUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED NON-TMI PROGRAMMING THANK YOU AND GOODNIGHT.

I have three jobs. I’m doing someones tax filing and digitizing their rolodexes; making and selling Gilda Radner Shirts; and lastly, doing respite care for a family whose son has asperger’s. Two of the three require a substantial bus trip, which gives me a lot of time to ponder trivialities. When the sun comes out, my music changes. Gone are the days of the sleepy rainy day jazz, so I ring in the season with poppy lounge tunes and beachy chillwave. It’s always a much looked forward to event in my year.

One sunny Sunday evening a few weekends ago I was on a desolate MAX train riding back from work. My feet on the seat, I stare at the ceiling watching flora and city life jet through my periphery. It was honestly the first lovely day of the year. My eyelids flutter shut and the salty ocean breeze presses its imaginative hands on my face. No need to clear the static…. My heart is a steel drum. She stands on the sand in an ambiguous white dress. As the train gets closer to downtown, I see her waves of brown tresses dance in the air. She caresses an invisible metal microphone with her spindly guitar fingers closing her eyes to sing. I will be there… Her hips move with the undulations of the ocean, blurring in and out of focus each time the train pulls to a stop. I watch her from afar, she is not conscious of me and proceeds– humming as if I were there. “Is her seduction,” I wonder, “aimed at the collective you, or is her suspiciously lustful gaze directed only towards me?”

Then, the light Portland breeze travels through an open window and I get my first real wafting whiff of Spring.

It. Is. Marvelous.


One Response to “art project”

  1. […] me of the beach, and makes me feel really warm inside my bones when it’s freezing outside. (I wrote a blog post about it almost a year ago, actually.) Anyway, the lyrics are a little jumbled, but it’s […]

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