a long awaited phoenix visit.

Yes! It finally took place, after attempting 4 seperate times we finally visited the
Phoenix Art Museum.

I was so excited I could barely contain myself.
Vivi and Jake came over, I finished my coffee and we were on our way!
Jake mistaked the Scottsdale Art Museum for the Phoenix Art Museum but we eventually got there.
Here are some of my favorite things I saw.
(the pictures are off the original site because we weren’t allowed to take pictures in most of the exhibits.)


“Upside Down, Inside Out” By Anish Kapoor 2003

This was in the Contemporary Arts section as we walked in. Of course this was my favorite section in the Museum considering my love for Modern & Abstract Arts.


“Mass Colder Darker Matter” by Cornelia Parker 1997

This was also an interesting piece in the Contemporary Arts section, it’s made out of pieces of burnt wood from a church that was struck by lightning. I found the concept and the story behind it really interesting.


“Gretchen” by Robert Lango 1985

The last piece in the Contemporary Arts that I found really intriguing was this one by Robert Lango . For some reason I really liked it and will probably use it as a source of inspiration for my next painting.


“You Who are Getting Obliterated in the Dancing Swarm of Fireflies” by Yayoi Kusama

After the Contemporary Arts we went to the Firefly Exhibit and Vivi had to hold my hand as I walked in because my glasses made it very difficult to see the limits of floor and walls. It is a room filled with led lights and mirrors all around, and of course the clumsy me I am, I ended up walking into a wall because I thought I saw Vivi coming towards me when actually I was walking towards her reflection. It was quite funny. I took off my glasses after and realized that the magnification of my glasses was making the room seem three times bigger than it actually was. That explained a lot.


“Pollice Verso” by Jean Leon Gerome 1872

We continued over to the European Arts and I really enjoyed that too. Sadly I couldn’t find many pictures of the paintings we saw because they are very rare and are not allowed to be photgraphed. There were several pieces from the 15th and 16th century that were truly impressive. The softness with which the artists painted back then is impossible to recreate. There were many mythological refference paintings and also 17th and 18th century style paintings that were so realistic it was intimidating.


We also saw this 9th Century Sitting Buddha Statue in the Asian Arts. The detail they used on many of the pottery pieces that were there was amazing, the sheer dedication they must have had to do all that just boggles ones mind.

There were many pieces I would have loved to put on here, especially the famous Ansel Adams photography exhibit we were lucky to see while we were there but unfortunately all I can suggest is a visit of your own, guys! It was lovely and a nice touch to my busy weekend.

After the museum Jake was a cutie and took us out to eat and we met up with a bunch of friends Vivi knew when she lived in Phoenix that she’s gotten in touch with again since she’s moving back soon. (which I must say I’m extra excited about since she won’t be nearly as far now) But overall it was a great Saturday.

 - Till next time, dearies.

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i’m not judgemental, just creative.

I enter the classroom and find the smell to be foul and displeasing.
I am supposed to be educated and given knowledge in the confinement of these four walls right?
Yes, yes, I am here and listening as you make this lecture easy for any idiot to follow.
I am here as you open every door, and every other possible pathway.
Sure, don’t leave me a challenge, we’re not capable of that anymore now are we?
We must be fed everything, our hands can no longer hold the spoon.

The great majority of ingrates ask their questions and mettle in their gossip as I wait for the clock to turn even.
I tap my notebook with my pen and sigh impatiently.
It’s a good thing they give you a paper at the end of all this.
A paper which proves that you indeed wasted your time being fed useless information and doing meaningless tasks.
Like faultless sheep they all rise and exit the room, my stride is slow and impersonal, I prefer to go unnoticed.
A girl I recognize from a class smiles at me as I pass, I small back although to my life her contribution is infinitesimal.
On my way I am also met by a young man that seems to think we have an amicable enough relationship that he can accompany me the whole walk to my following class.
I find this unsettling but decide to be kind and participate in the conversation to some degree.
Yes, yes, your grandmother did this and you went fishing with Auntie Mary, so on and so forth.
In my right ear I can hear a faint version of Nirvana and decide to divert my attention towards that as he continues his petty discussion.

At one point he informs me that his class is in another direction and I fake an Oscar worthy smile as a goodbye.
I walk into the mundane classroom and secure a seat in the second row.
My contradictions should be heard adequately from this position.
Some nondescript sitting in front of me turns around and asks a couple commonplace questions that dry up any of my leftover enthusiasm for the class.
Two female blockheads reside behind me discussing their latest drunken experience.
My i-pod has run out of battery and this brings me to overall dismay.
I decide to calm myself by eavesdropping the conversation the two bimbos are having.
I listen carefully and attempt to decifer their actual statements, removing the numerous “likes” and “um’s” they have decided to use so intelligently.
One speaks about how she gave oral sex in a bathroom and the other does nothing but respond with “Like oh my god, girl.”
The confessions continue and after my ear has picked up enough I decide my seat is too close to the air vent anyway and move to another.
Far far away from the promiscuous damsels.
I wonder if they have ever read a decent book as I rustle through my paperwork to find my course description.
I decide that each will most likely end up living off their husbands salary and relying on their pink jumpsuits and diet pills to maintain a fair level of self esteem.
I’m not judgemental, just creative.

As the all knowing excuse of a professor opens his mouth, I remember I have forgotten to feed my fish and scribble a small footnote to myself on my agenda, this day could not go by any slower.

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the love tribulations of sir Jack Dust.

There once was a particle of dust.
It floated from left to right, up and down, and quite typically; round and round.
It did not crisscross, or zigzaggy-do, but it sure did like that stew.
Next to a carrot it fell, just boiling and swell.
A family of green beans floated by and yelled to him:
“Hey Jack! Guess there’s a heat stroke up in the pot today aye!?”

He did not know what they spoke of, and supposed that they had mistaken him for someone else.
Nevertheless, he decided to be daring on that fine afternoon and take upon on him the name given.
He would be the honorable Jack Dust, not to be mistaken with sir Frank Rust, the one no one could ever trust.

 At sudden shock, the carrot took a diabolic dip, frantic flip, and tremendous trip!
In front of Jack flashed all his lovely memories of floating above the living room, his frightful encounter with the dustpan, and the one time he almost enrolled at the Hairball Society.
He was impolitely interrupted by a beautiful site before him.

She laughed with such savor, a thousand and one particles did not compare.
Jack wondered what she was.
She was too big to be a particle, and too small to be a bicycle.
Her skin gave off porcelain and her lips made him not
Jack Dust, but Jack Flustered.

At sudden glance, a shooting spoon passed before his eyes.
In haste, he made his most valored wish and hoped for the best.
As he floated away from the stew, it came into view.
In her mouth he was planted as his wish so endowingly granted.
He grasped frantically to her red rose lips but the darkness engulfed him.
And as he fell deeper and deeper, the beautiful gal uttered to her mother:

“Why Mum, this stew is quite delicious!”

[ - Written at 1:35 am after playing the guitar and wiping the dust off my shelves.]

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find the grace to be nothing.

She pulled the clip out of her hair, took off her socks, and put on face cream.

She brushed her teeth, had a glass of water, and took her nightly dose of pills.

She laid down in her bed, folded the covers, and closed her eyes.

She didn’t dream, she didn’t think, she didn’t desire.

She woke, drank coffee, and got in the car.

She was robotic, she was lifeless, and she was carefree.

She sounds like me.

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c’est belle problème.

I’ll tell you what the problem is buddy.
Oh I’ll tell you what the problem is indeed.

No longer do humans express themselves.

Sexuality is repressed.
Love is avoided.
Art is mundane.

Women have become men, men have become women.
Personality is objective, marriage subjective.
Disagreement silenced, and agreement necessary.
Regrets abundant, risks scarce.
Music inspired, not created.
Objects improved, not invented.
Beauty materialized, materialization beautified.
Discipline undermined, excess intertwined.
Show me art.
Give me inspiration.

Sex.
Love.
Art.

Has the curtain fallen on us for the last time?
Technology conquering, nature diminishing.
Falacy promoted, substance shunned upon.
Reality distorted, fantasy denied.

The human condition, strangely reformed.
Where are the loud cries of rebels?
The souls against the current?
The passionate?
The enraged?
The godamned poets!?

Love.
Sex.
Art.

Art.
Love.
Sex.

All a bunch of hog wash I tell you.
Oh, I’ll tell you the problem, I’ll tell you the problem indeed.
Substance.
Substance, I tell you.
Sub-fucking-stance I tell you.

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