my life is now built upon wheels which means i'm always moving on.

i started skating again.
it feels really good right now.
i'm sure i'll break my wrist soon.
have mostly been doing parking lot rips but had a really good skate at the university earlier this week.
no security to speak of.
seems strange to be 27 and looking over your shoulder for security guards, that are probably a few years younger then me too.
seems strange to be skating at 27.
seems good.

really excited about this:






http://free103point9.org/aboutwavefarm/


and also going to get out my old pentax because of this:
http://www.ryanmcginley.com/
ryan works with sigur ros on their new video which is perfect.
combination of two amazing artists.

formatting?
god no...

on a new note

i got one of these yesterday:



her name is judy.
she is the first lady of moving architecture.
i'd like to thank taylor for introducing me to her.

all i want

is a state of hope.

some talk.

a bunch of laughing.

a time machine.

a shield.

plants that i can chew that will clear my head.

a kanga sauna.

sun in an empty room.

the abililty to write a legitimate apology letter.

potential good jobs

• letterpress operator
• traveller
• used bookstore owner
• lumberjack
• composer (piano)
• author (fiction)
• piano tuner
• painter
• archaeologist
• fashion designer
  
• filmmaker
• researcher (romantic science)
• carpenter
  
• potter
• bed and breakfast operator
• resort reviewer for high-end travel magazine
  

it sunned, then it rained, then it sunned again...

where am i? what am i doing? what did i do?

saying that everything "happens for a reason" is a total cop out.

when i walked up behind her...

she had no idea it was coming.. i grabbed the back of her sweater and tore it over her perfect shoulder blades and up over the top of her real head until her eyes were covered with the wool. she panicked and spun around and gasped for breath even though i wasn't covering her mouth. she fell down in the dirt and covered her knees and somehow got a bunch of dirt on her face and looked like a kid with chocolate cake smeared on her cheeks... her stomach was a cavern. the contracting muscles echoed down deep in her guts. pulsing back and forth. her eyes were locked on bright colours. she was dancing and screaming out loud on a country road and her jeep was out of gas and she called her father and he brought her some gas and fixed things up a little and he was a real father figure for her that night.

moving architecture

this skirt is the triangle skirt.
it looks like the fabric is being all bunched up because of the red triangles but really it's fine.
i just have to finish the waist and it's complete.
the next skirt is going to be very nice.