Friday, February 12, 2016

3 strippers, nyc, the eighties


(There is no accounting for taste so forgive my judgmental teenage self’s comments if I am talking about you, as we peek inside my still developing mind).

During the eighties decade, the eighties popular culture, the music, the films and particularly the fashion, was repulsive to me, a weird anti social teen and young adult.  Shoulder pads, the curly hair tossed back, the high cut underwear and bathing suits, almost all of it was the antithesis of what I found attractive. I used to have to hand tailor all of my clothes because I could find almost nothing on the rack that suited my strong stubborn taste. I am not sure I have ever heard a Duran Duran song, because I was busy rocking the underground music scene to escape what was offensive to me. Oh how I struggled to find underwear that did not want to give me a giant skinny triangle from my crotch to my belly button. Indeed, I used to hand lower the waists of all of my pants into rare and beautiful hip huggers that were impossible to find at the time. I know it is hard to believe but a mere 30 years ago you used to have to work so incredibly hard to find wearable clothes if your taste did not match the dominant style.

So there were these three beautiful girls that looked cool as hell. They were into some underground music scene as well and they too understood that the current popular sensibility was crap. They were friends with each other and happened to be topless dancers who worked probably at Billy’s. I am not sure. They wore a lot of black clothes and black eyeliner and I referred to them in my head as “the Cher girls” because of their long brilliantly straight hair. They must have found a stack of vintage underwear from the 60’s because they always wore these glorious low cut bathing suit bottom style underwear (not sure how i knew that) with cool boots, while almost every other dancer was doing the high cut vile thong and white pumps look, topped off with long yellow curls. (I understand that that is nothing terrible in and of itself. It almost sounds refreshing as I type it,  but at the time I found it oh so very cringeworthy.) 

Anyway, I used to see these girls around town and I always thought to myself how lucky the men were who got to watch them dance, and they probably had no idea. Those girls were just so fucking cool.




Thursday, February 11, 2016

barbecue snapshot 1982, Queens NY



At 15, I went to a barbecue with my boyfriend to some punk rock couple’s house in Queens I think. The couple was quite striking, both were imposing, physically and personality wise, taking up a lot of space and speaking loud and gesturing big, very comfortable in the world, unlike shy quiet almost invisible me. They both were very stylized in their cool plaid or leather pants, boots. and great dyed spiky hair. They were older than us- me, a junior, and my guy, a sophomore. They lived in a house, we lived with our parents in apartments.

I was a vegetarian and a social misfit so I had no idea what to do or how to act at a barbecue in the broad daylight on a hot day. I was overdressed in boots and black. I also did not know how to take care of myself or pay attention to my needs so I was starving, not being a meat eater, and anxious to leave as soon as we got there. I was good at bearing discomfort for a long periods of time and slinked off to the side and kept quiet like a sick cat

Everyone was very sweet and welcoming and funny. At one point the guy put on a pair of swim goggles and made loud noises and charged at a neighborhood little kid who was peeping at us all through the fence. The kid got scared and ran away and we all laughed.

When we left my boyfriend told me that they had whips in their bedroom and that the guy gestured to them and said, “that’s what happens when you get older.” Getting older did not sound good to me.

this is what the first wave of hardcore out of new york sounded like:

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

the story of my life


Oh ok, so it boils down to this. I experienced an unfathomable amount of pain as a child growing up. too much to process at the time, too much for a child to handle, to live through. So as a survival technique it got put aside. Smart move, saved my life, but now I have to deal with it.

So I have this reservoir of hurt that gets bumped into on occasion, by really insignificant people, and I get wrecked, devastated, by someone doing some relatively minor shitty thing. I get triggered by incidents that remind me of some core wound. It is brutal, but it is manageable, because I know what it is, after the initial shock of feeling sucker punched. I do not have to self destruct over the pain, I just have to ride the wave to the other side, have lots of empathy and love for that little kid who was so hurt, find a human who can sit with me and love me through the darkness and get over it as fast as possible. No avoiding it, but I do not need to make matters worse either, with self destructive actions, whatever that might be. Don’t fight it feel it. It is just a feeling. It goes away.

Oh and then I get to thank the insignificant person who caused the chain reaction. Not to their face, but silently, thank you for leading me to deeper healing. I usually add an unattractive adjective to their name and then take it back, because it still fells like it is their fault, but it isn’t. I might even conjure some empathy for them, if i feel like it. They probably have their own story going on, god bless.

The story of my life. It is no one’s fault. Don’t fight it feel it. It changes. Love you guys. I wirte this to remind myself and anyone else who wants reminding. Happiness, or at least peace, in right on the other side of going through the feeling. I promise. xxh

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1v_qm1okshk

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

While you're alive, shine


While you're alive, shine:
never let your mood decline.
We've a brief span of life to spend:

Time necessitates an end.

i am loving the line that when you are live, shine. I write this to remind myself and you.

the poem comes from an ancient greek song that you can hear authentically recreated apparently here:



but i just want to repeat the opening line, while you're alive, shine, what else is there to do? hide? not try? be dull? 

shine, my friends.
xh

Monday, February 8, 2016

sandtraps


Parenthood has all these sandtraps. All these aspects of it, things I never expected, blindside me, sucker punch me, kick my ass. I get beat up and then broke open and then it leads me to some old wound of mine that still needs healing. Walking through the fire. Urg, I hate it. It is so uncomfortable and painful. This is so hard. And then it leads me to peace. Something shifts, heals.  Thank you.

Sunday, February 7, 2016

use your life. it is short.


today a piranha attacked me through glass. i leaned on the glass at the zoo and the fish got frenzied trying to bite me and eat me through the glass. i am so glad the glass was there.

use your life, it is short. who knows what will happen tomorrow. probably something great.

music is the best medicine....

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nAHRAKQMfzA

Saturday, February 6, 2016

ghost on the highway

I am letting someone else write it tonight. Really thrilled to share this. I cannot tell you how much I love this story on so many levels. I totally believe it. and a perfect reason to post this perfect song. win/win.






I also know that it could be a plant for an upcoming film, but it is still great.