THANKS

it's important, at times, to be really fancy.

(((beautiful things amongst beautiful things amongst beautiful things amongst beautiful things amongst beautiful things amongst beautiful things beautiful things amongst beautiful thing.)))


newest photographic concept________stay tuned


for excerpt(s) from a affectionately filled junkyard.

K

there is

a lot going on.

photos:::pastels::: acatinabag:::the dramatic hour

a photo taken along the Chesapeake Bay.


yesterday, while walking a child to school, stumbled upon was a tossed to trash box of mappery and old French books. My stars! two of my favorite things in a box going to the landfill. i had to grab what i could. when do you find maps still containing the soviet union? what a gold mine! when do you find a 1950's french study book? daresay, i collect them now. i'minterestedinthem. (they are much more difficult and intellectually expansive than my current 2011 french study book.

what an oddly intoxicating autumn it has become. i feel at ease in a clarifying way, as ifbreathing into my being. my being, not me, into existence, is becoming an artistic force, wrapping ideas to work with words and space, language and color, building and natural destruction. conceptual yes, untrained yes, unwilling to admit the fear and inability that once held me back from exploring artistically,the experience of lifeandallthethingsinbetween. i have ideas and with the right time and set up, they are able to flourish.]]\\\\\\or not flourish[[[[----and they give in to capitalism.

i've been thinking about capitalism more recently in such a way that I have become or am continuing at least to stray from purchases in general. supporting only artisans, designers, farmers who are doing good work and recoginzing my physical need as minor. Of course a:::

WINTER COAT WITH A HOOD-----has potential to be expensive, but worth it.

Autumn 2011 has been a reflective time (as autumn always does become). I think about the forward motion it has taken in regards to relating///working///time spacing///importance. Oddly, this city is now becoming a place of severe reverence for me. Maybe because I have TIME to NOTICE. And have lived here long enough, to have known this place long enough, to slow down and be placeless. Soon, I think I could live anywhere in the world....(exciting prospect)

so here's to autumn 2011 thus far (another month to go):
(c'est bon!)
my french studies
visual spacing of words
high bun in hair
lack of lipstick
self indulged naps
new yoga studio
cooking
trip to new york
a sound recorder
old friends reunited
time for art lack
performance daily
quiet
THE DRAMATIC HOUR*



i have put so many words out into space. i think it's time for minimal testing in regards to feeling.

i want to show you photos and pastels and meet the cat i rescued when i was a bit silly on halloween.




K


*An experimentation in recording myself being extremely dramatic for a small time during the day.

view from the house on 29th street.

jeans that fit.new boots.autumnal shift

Yes. It is autumn. OFFICIALLY. I recall last year writing of jean jackets and that small window of opportunity when you are able to wear them well.

I recently went shopping with my mother and stumbled upon multiple pairs of pants, jeans, that fit well. After years of unnecessary issue with my pant wear, I came upon the finest selection at, well, your local Community Aid Thrift. Not only are the jeans durable and not yet well-worn, but they are the style I like. Comfortable, thin at waist, wider in the legs, just what I need. It might be a bit too Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally or Diane Keaton in Manhattan, but that's the style I like. Plus, it was the most exciting feeling to walk in, know what I wanted, see it on the racks (amongst 100,000 other pairs of pants) and have them fit. THAT is success for me. I mean, think about how many times you go and try something on and it doesn't fit! As if what you see and what you feel are two entirely different manifestations! But when, what you feel and what you see, fits and feels good, GOD...

is it not the BEST feeling?

I mean, magazines depict just one body type...skinny, no curves, and those jeans work...but not for most bodies. I felt like I escaped the confines of magazine and current mainstream culture and broke through to some higher mode of living, dressing, being.

Plus with my NEW boots for which I saved. I'm still adapting. Won't we always?


there's more, but of course, the excitement of jeans and boots and autumnal shifts.


Tres Bon!


I will make a list of things worthy of discussion:
sleepiness
missing your mother
the French language
lists
writing letters
building things
using doors and windows
loss
the art of collecting things
paper not used
a photograph of the real

but





MAGICAL



in a junkyard.

narcolepsy

writing of clarity, ashamed to think there is any such thing. time passes and forgets itself blatantly. this isn't what had been in my mind.

therein you begin, again to begin. to feel. what is a thing called feeling? in a time of capitalism, we hide it in our dark closets and make mention or expel harsh words on small children that have no defense.

we are defenseless in our lack of feeling. in a house we did not build, nor do we own. there, demolished by the kitchen sink, a rotting corpse.

the one of my body. dank. decay. miserable.

and then, we make art. we expand to create. we are exhausted. and yet, there in the glimmer of a late night or dusted corner, open fields of change, news of you. how disconnected we have become.

my heart lingers in this life. which is mine. but in which i am not living. outskirts and street camps, there is a quiet lull deep within cajoled by broken harmonies and fresh snow. loblolly pines. people who have exploded out into the universe. they have defined their creation. do they understand how brilliant they are?

of all that one can learn, there is so much. so much that it exhausts me and i should want to die.

but i have known exhaustion in ways unmanageable. i have hidden in fear because i could not complete or continue. barely having the frame of mind in which to begin.

and now, it is coming all so clearly, the dream like state.

no longer a critic...i am my own creator...and despite my medicated fancy, fallacy, will be, finally, absolutely ready to dedicate myself to the
WORK
I choose to do or am chosen to do.


sad but grateful,

katelyn

late nights are good for the soul.(sole).

phew

Thank god that's all over. Who knew emotions could be so volatile on the 31st floor. After two days with many hours in my room, on the streets that I know, where people grit and grime and sell it on the corner, I feel (as Josie would say) loads better about my existence.

Sometimes, is it possible, that all our angst and emotional turmoil is due to our altitude? ---amongst other things---



i think ants are living in my computer.
i wish communicating with those you care about was easier.
i wish the people you care about the most were not the ones you hurt so much.
i wish those people weren't the ones to hurt you so much.
it's all so messy...


but then i bought these shoes...

http://www.zappos.com/multiview/7824690/718






I'd tell you more, but I can't...

just know that how you feel is really important, and
HOW you communicate how you feel is really important, and
mostly that you DO communicate how you feel
the people who care about you, will listen.



on a less intense note:::


actually, nevermind.

intensity is a part of life, and when you dig deep enough into the intensity, you find yourself on the other side of things---a pervading sense of calm.



still in the junkyard,
K

was that a cathartic vacation?

or am i dreaming?

i think some of the most beautiful things happened this week.

soon, sadness.


is it possible to need a vacation from a vacation?



how do I turn this all into forward motion?



what is the most detailed oriented hobby?



I did not know orchids could grow this high in altitude.




why, might I ask, do true feelings begin at the end?




like the real camino beginning at the end of the trail.


oh, walking in Spain sounds so so so so so good right now.



until then, from the 31st floor,


K

the saddest thing

is being amongst beautiful things alone.

...

in the house that no one built
is a man who no one knows

is a man who knows no bounds
are bounds that know no man

nor woman
nor anything in between.

irene and time away

what does it mean to vacation? i mean, getting away from one's reality and routine I think has something to do with neurological pathways.

I "got away" only to realize that my very life is a constant escape. which i have somehow chosen, created, transposed and love.

an epiphany of sorts. have youhadsomethinglikethis?

traveling far....sounds fantastic...but i like where i am. i like what i learn. i like the trials of my daily encounters with people.

and so how do you explain that you are in a constant state of education and euphoria of feeling?

of course, i have my issues and dilemmas, but the pale due to the literature.library.windows.light.children.people.walking.usage.words.explanation.deep silence.stillness.movement.


a good cry, a good movie, watching the storm approach from the 31st floor.
acknowledging growth
accepting oddities

because then,

being who you are is not just a choice
it is an absolute necessity...



there is no other way.





k

summer

this year is taking shape via:::

fresh grown tomatoes

rollerblading

late, late nights

coffee shops

sun tans

photographs

Susan Sontag

the French language



lack and lack and lack there of.......not withstanding.....failure




then there are things called s pa c e

and time and things I just do not understand and cannot claim to understand nor desire to take part. and all that is left are books, talking about books, talking about talking about books, reading, playing, and the art of losing oneself to the late, late night.


the photo above has absolutely nothing to do with anything or possibly something to do with nothing or anything to do with something.



K

i have a dream...

...that someday i will live in a place where people do not pee on your doorstep.

something about the bay at night, lights upon the water, dark
a street with small houses
an ocean, strong tides, stealing my vision.

now, a new way of seeing,
a new way of understanding feeling
through admittance of not understanding, feeling.

withstanding time, a testament to misunderstandings
or great understandings
upon which we cannot wring our dirty rags.

or make decision where decision is due,
we can alter our own conception of choice
where choice is due, and make one, but

despite all this, still to decide
is a frightening prose
we might not be willing to speak.

there is so much at stake
or really nothing at all
for the freedom of choice, the freedom of error
is ours,
and thus a great responsibility.



((((((((((exhaustion takes on new territory.))))))))))))

depth of field

"and they lived in an old apartment

with an old boa constrictor named Ted who slept in a cage by the window.

there was a mattress and a clock on the wall that was once grandmother's before she passed."



this is the phrase to which I awoke this morning in my mind. odd? yes.

I got some blades, rollerblades and they make me want to read books about birds. I don't know why. odd? yes.


These two odd thoughts define this morning and if all things go as they usually do, in sets of three, I will have one more odd thought before lunch.

Ironically, I am still thinking about what I was thinking about what I was thinking about thinking about...

six years ago.

And the fact that it has in fact remained factually factual means that...

I was not ready, nor reading, nor readable, but listening

has become the licentious licensed agreement between the mind and body.

I only wish I had played a part in this magical feast!


I'm communicating, yes, in fragmentation. Well, a year has passed since the last fourth of July and I cannot contemplate how odd this year's sense of time seems to have taken upon itself. Learning such difficult lessons, humbled tremendously in my own values and trajectories and decisions. A year since R and I combed the beach together, almost since my first surfing lesson on that fateful Monday morning.

It is yes, that things happen, these moments of momentous molecular substance that pass as if a seed blown about in the wind. Then, months, years, decades post, there is fragment of clarity caught in a succession of words, or an admittance, or a confession, or I am standing a top a hilly hill and looking down into a valley and I see a red wagon and in this red wagon is a pile of sticks and we are going to build a fire and something clicks.

It is the realization of:

a friend not a friend,
a friend as a lover
a place as ancestral
a pursuit as achievable
an act as necessity
a conversation of clairvoyance


and so....i am still thinking about:::
philosophy
and the west as enlightenment
and observation
and performance
and movement (geographical, molecular, individual, social, spacial)


all this to be said, things are becoming more clear. Those who are friends are remaining friends and the self imposed goals are becoming still clearer. That the self imposed limitations die when you push hard enough. And those odd messages I followed that were so externally unclear but so delicately and internally driven, are leading me to pursue my life within my life and become what it is, who it is, that exists internally as an externally exhibit of this. And so looking in the mirror, will not see such a foreign body, but my body, this body, the one that wants to:::

surf
climb
walk
run
bike
write
burn

all over the earth, in every way, with canvas and parked cars and dust and bones and deserts

and nothing that matters as matter but mad as a hatter

relying not on another but the self
as the self
with the self
by the self
into the self
upwards towards the self
within the self
self as self
the selfdom as the self





the kittens are napping
i live in a cave
the cave is a womb
and in it, I am forming

what has always been...

like the first flutter of eyes between two
coming down the stairs in September


etcetera
etcetera
etcetera









K

seeds plante

d.

i had a promise that i kept_________in a box in the basement

i had intended to plant the flower seeds this morning, but it was all lost, this promise to myself when I remembered that I have an agenda for the day.

i wonder what it means to make art? i've been thinking about it very much lately as I dare to consider myself a maker of art, an artist. it is rare that i am impressed, but i have been impressed and when i am impressed it is clear that there is some worth to art.

then again, there is worth to ship building and oil drilling and shop keeping and grocery clerking, if not more so. But this is the garment under which I was raised:::I am not critical of it, rather, recognizing it and wondering if I will never be able to grasp the idea of art as functional and if i need to consider it functional if I continue to make it, or think I am making it. This thing called function---it is how I view everything. Ironically, some of my life gestures could be considered entirely impractical, however, they were out of pursuit of functionality and rationality. It is all much clearer now than it was before that this is the case---my relationships with people, my life pursuits----i honestly think it is a crutch...what does it feel like to live irrationally...

i think i'm afraid of it
i think i've never tried nor was ready
to face the actuality that functionality and rationality is a lens through which I view the world---that there are certain to be many lenses and what would it be like to view my life in a new lens--a less practical lens---a lens that for once listens to the voice within me that speaks so quietly but is often, if not ALWAYS correct.

i think this voice is getting louder--stronger---or rather, the other voices, the voices of lies and uncertainty which shout and clangor on into the night are being quieted and some disappearing all together. It is changing the very make up of my day, it is changing my interaction with people, my relationships, it is forcing me to look at myself through a new lens, it is recognizing the power of some of my pursuits.

it is because i have really grown this year...was forced by various scenarios to see myself lost and grappling to find stasis, watching as things fell apart----
b

b


b
bb
but instead of it all being this and that---it is more of a ((((((((( ))))))))))


i will be in MAINE in 3 days...flying into BANGOR

if you knew how excited this makes me to go north...

thinking about the future becomes exciting when possibilities exude within you and you now have the ability to mete it all out carefully.






au revoir!

K

missing words

in the previous post i had typed a mongo paragraph that somehow was deleted. ce va...

better left unsaid, like most things?

this morning I had an absolute moment of "aha!" with myself:::that a very successful moment is when you become self-reliant within a social setting. When you, yourself, exist purely and absolutely within the crowd just as you would exist alone on a hillside with some sheep and a dog named Henri. (pronounced Ahn-Ri)

Of course, i've known this for a long time--but how is it that we forget even basic values we hold in such high regard in our daily endeavors. I blame it on distraction--and this is very human---we can't blame ourselves for becoming distracted.

some distractions are very beautiful and lovely.

i've always valued self reliance, and in the past, have done it in a sloppy manner. self imposed isolation. running away. neglecting cathartic moments. But really, when it's all said and done, all your fancy flights and existential migrations, your self indulging pursuits and aims to make hedgeway in the world fade and you are left---a lonely hunter in the woods with no weapon but your ego. It is at this moment that self relience might actually begin----self enjoyment---self amusement---etc etc


speaking of which:: see below

take a bath
go on a walk
read a magazine
get some nice linens
buy some good smelling soap
treat yourself to a good meal
start planning a day trip for yourself




from a seat by the window:::


K

an interlude of silence

commenced post previous post. it was never an intended silence from these philosophically driven musings about the art of life in a time of capitalistic reverie.

where could I even begin to begin to begin? except at the end of the circles----
for now the straight line has commenced.

commendable, you say.

THINGS HAPPEN>>>>>>>

<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>><<<))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

i suppose this sums it up enough to begin again to begin again to begin.


it is early. before the sun even rose there was a tear in my eye.
when it fell down, my mind was erased
i became a creature of organic matter
and the matters at hand
lost their significance
enough to make sleep a worthy endeavor.




until next time---which may be another four months or tomorrow.


be well,
K

Just another day

at 16 16 Walnut Street:::

Man attempts to enter elevator on the 5th floor. He is too slow and almost gets smashed. Beautifully kept buxom woman looks at him with disdain:

"that was a close one!" says the man jovially while glancing at his phone.

"you're going to have your arm chopped off buddy. get off your cell phone" she flares.


reproachfully, he tries to blame it on the woman entering the elevator in front of him. "yea, but she..."


before he can even form an excuse she says... "It don't matter. I'm a New Yorker. You've got to learn to fend for yourself."




I thought, yes, ah, New York. tell me more lady. and perchance, might I ask, why on earth are you at 1616 Walnut Street?




What could I tell you about my weekend? It was, volatile and telling and, well spent. Can I say I am happy? No, happiness is a rouge. The perpetrator of failure. The moment you rest in a happy state, you have lost the war. What is it, "thou shalt not rest on one's laurels". Something like that.

ii and I took to dinner friday evening in London, well, the closest thing around here. We ordered burgers and dark beers and talked about what needed to be discussed. music. we ordered my friday piece of cake and sipped on espressos. It sounds fancy...and it was. I don't spend lots of time with fancy people...but it's important to take time for the finer parts of life...mostly...quiet, absorbing conversation with close friends.

Then it was off to a small gathering with a lot of my favorite people.

I'd like to speak a little on friendship. It seems it is something I cannot understand and in which I have little faith. Sadly, it is due to friendships that have not lasted and slipped into the treachery of the external realm that makes me quite hesitant to form and commit to friendships. Friendship is something I hold in the highest regard! More than anything else! A close relationship with someone, a closeness that is open and real, where time has no engagement, and you can never know if you are alone or together, it is all the same. It is a person who expands your mind and clears your mind and makes you feel comfortable and at ease.

It is so rare! Can I write you about people in my life? I cannot know. Those with whom I have felt such closeness, are gone and away. In my life for such a short time...

Instead of negativity in all of this though, I want to write about my hopes. Someday, I wish to have the finest few friends. Friends with whom there is no desparate leaving or departing, friends with whom there is change but not change enough to disparr. Friends whom can share their deepest darkest sentiments and I, them. Sitting for hours discussing ideas and visions, as well as things we love and despise. Friends, those, with whom we are not so busy and live down the street. There are many people I like in my life now and I wonder...with whom I shall partake upon this possibility for many years to come.

I've found one. She's been in my life for over five years. I can't say my life would be any good without her in it. That's something, I must admit, that's worth every bit of life I have lived. And you know, I can see more forming. Just give it time...





On another note: Went cross country skiing with Mom over the weekend. It was fantastic. Hope to go again soon! As in...next weekend. The trees, the sun, the snow, the mountains. At dusk, I skiied across the lake. My legs felt grand. My body strong. exhaustion is good for the soul.


My oh my, maybe I am not such a city girl...


looking to move north come 2012. (AS LONG AS THE WORLD DOES NOT END!)

until then: la colombe's employees are still the best looking on the earth.



K

fireplace musings.

i am quite

disinterested


in the past.



be it though, playing a pivotal role in the make up of the present,



I am left to wonder the extent of it's importance::::



more so, it's power






over what color socks I am wearing now.

a quiet room on a quiet floor in a quiet house on

twenty ninth street.

I've been thinking about:

Winslow Homer's paintings
the Berkshires
wind
Dostoyevsky
memory
the art of solitude
hard work
Montreal, Quebec
building things




my thoughts are mostly in lists and fragments. _____ complete sentences feel estranged.

i'vediscovered thatagehas no meaning.

1960's Harlem? i'minterestedin thingsi don'tknow and people who know things i never can becausei'd ratherhearaboutit.




i'malsointerestedinstringingthingstogether.molecularbonds.C L A R I T Y.

i want to paint ona canvas with black and white and red.


I'll leave you with the worst thing anyone said to me...which was yesterday, by an eight year old girl:::

"Give me a shovel and a grave."
"why?"
"you make me wish to be dead"


ce la vie...

k