Woke Up To A New Life

My lucky tattoos - Old School-Style Hearts.

Adorable.

I woke up this morning after a twelve hour "sleep" - I think I died for twelve hours instead of actually slept. My poor little bones. After a series of yet more completely twisted dreams (I dreamt that I was 9 months pregnant, and I was pounds shots and beers, and nobody cared.), I then woke up to an unplanned psychotically busy/productive day. My life literally took a turn for the best today. Let me fill you in.

I've had this "secret project" that has been in the process of being planned out for a few months now. For once, I have actually been able to halt the teasers and keep my mouth shut about it, simply for the fact that I continually jinx myself. My good friend is a born genius at web design, so we collaborated on this genius idea. Unfortunately, I can't give you the full detail on the project until the site launches, but to give you a little insight on what's going down, it's basically a fully music-based website that will act as an outlet for indie/underground artists, shedding a little light on their work, getting them out in the world without them having to sell out and be "that band" that we all frown upon. (We hate mainstream.) The site is called The Lineup. And it's really an incredible thing. I'm so excited to blab about it once the site launches!

About two hours after digging into the first orders of business for The Lineup, I got a phone call from someone asking if I had ever considered showing my art in galleries. Of course I had. It's on my Mini Dream list of things to accomplish in life. Any artist would jump at the opportunity to have their art in galleries. After talking to this guy for a little while, he offered to do partial leg work for me in getting my art into galleries. He immediately called some galleries, and they agreed to see my work. I was dumbfounded. Really? Is this all happening in a matter of a few hours? My life is disgustingly artistic right now. And this is EXACTLY where I always dreamed to be. Maybe those tattoos I got on Friday are my lucky tattoos.

So, I will be putting all of my art into portfolio form (hello hours of eyeball strain), while simultaneously working on a laundry list of things for The Lineup. I knew something good was coming. And if this isn't it, then I don't think I can handle what's next to come.

Life is good. Dreams DO come true. Just have a little patience and a solid focus, and it'll all come in stride.

Current Listen: Liars - Houseclouds

Party 'till 6am and end up on magazine covers.

...especially the ones that go until 6am.

Today was made up of all of my favorite things, squeezed into twenty four hours. This is what Sundays were made for.

Aside from the fact that I went to bed as the sun was rising and the birds were chirping, less than three hours of sleep was apparently the perfect amount to send me buzzing on a Sunday morning. I woke up to my daily cinnamon bun flavored coffee chugging routine and begun the best day. Ever. My sister and bro (in law) and I went to this particularly awesome thrift/vintage vinyl flea market. We devoured bloodys and sifted through endless piles of vinyl, racks of all the vintage clothing, shoes, and accessories a girl can handle. Followed by my first ever visit to Aldi, where I felt the urge to say every single ridiculous "brand name" out loud. (Cheese Town, as opposed to Cheez-Itz and Aunt Maple, as opposed to Aunt Jemima were just two of my favorites.) Then we had tacos, my favorite food on planet earth, and now, it's lazy time. My legs literally throb from dancing all night.

Last night was a bit ridiculous, to say the least. My first priority was getting myself all dolled up and going to some work party at some fancy banquet hall. Cocktail dress and platform heels en tow, I pranced my way over this party, sipped on sangria, and danced to Michael Jackson and hold school hip hop tunes that were really difficult to hold a beat to. I took it as a challenged and danced all over it. The next thing in order, was to make it to a huge duo birthday party. The catch? Arrive in one piece. Making the transition from fancy cocktail dress and heels to liquid leggings, my 1920's inspired shoes, a black v neck tee with holes all over it, and my new favorite oversized denim button down that I stole from my mom's closet, circa 1982. I prefer the latter, but do enjoy a night playing dress up and having good manners. This time, though, I danced too hard, too long, to fresh spun tunes from the year 3000. Time was apparently nonexistent, and I ended up driving home at 6:30am. Whoops.  Needless to say, there's nothing like a night with my bros. They're my favorite people in the world. 

Something totally weird happened today. While grabbing tacos, I picked up a copy of Night & Day. My face dropped when I looked at the front cover. Um. I was on it. Awkward?

Here's to beginning a new week. Mondays are no fun days. 

Current Listen: Baby - The Phenomenal Handclap Band (This is seriously a must listen. Especially if you're a fan of '70's ish music, or Moneybrother, then you'll love this.) Click the link and watch the video ... that's the best part!

New Additions To Paper Bullets [ART]

Simulate

I tried to write you a letter,

 but this is what you get.

There is no middle man.

New Additions To Paper Bullets [ART]

Lofty Oaks

Blood Bath

Soaked In Yourself

Put On Your Apron

Tree flower.

Wish these were real.

If I've ever had a single doubt that I am afraid of commitment, this is the be all, tell all that I am most definitely not.

I made the decision a few days ago to go raw vegan. This means that you eat very very few cooked foods, (if they are cooked, they are to be either whole grains, like quinoa or brown rice, or vegetables) and all fruits, veggies, and the like. Going raw is not new to me. I went raw for a few months in between being vegetarian and vegan, and loved it to death. I had incredible amounts of energy, yes, even without coffee, and I was able to create and eat amazingly tasty foods ... all without feeling bad about eating an obnoxious amount of something.

I've been noticing that my body has not been digesting processed foods well, at all. I swell up, get so fatigued that I can barely think straight, I've been sleeping terribly, and I've just been feeling overall yucky. Being that it's the beginning of a new year, I usually do a detox around this time of year (I usually detox in the beginning of the year, and again right as summer starts/during summer). My body probably knew it was about time to detox. It's been on it's worst behavior.

Today I went raw vegan food shopping, which was a bitter sweet two hours of my life. I'm so excited to start fresh, but at the same time, my favorite arrowroot cookies looked so delicious on that shelf. I got more fruits & veggies than I can fit into my refrigerator (literally), and I stumbled upon my new favorite addition to everything I'm going to consume for now on - Agave Nectar. Think of it as a kind of honey, just much sweeter and lighter. They should call it crack in a bottle, and that's without ever exaggerating. 

Today I experimented a little for lunch, and came up with a quick, incredible tasting little number. Here's what happened in the kitchen:

Ingredients:

- 6 romaine lettuce leaves, washed and dried

- a shredded combination of raw purple cabbage, carrots andbroccoli hearts

- diced tomatoes

- diced cucumber

- roasted soy nuts

- dried cranberries

- raisins

- sunflower seeds

- low sodium soy sauce

- agave nectar

Mix all veggies, fried fruit, nuts, and seeds in a bowl. Add a splash of soy sauce. Toss with a fork.

Pile into a lettuce leaf and drizzle agave nectar on top. 

Devour!

I have those obnoxious taste buds that crave something sweet after I eat every single meal. This totally diminished that habit, which was a godsend! I was totally satisfied, flavor and full-wise. Success! (Especially considering I'm a disaster in the kitchen.)

Here's to eating healthier and getting a little creative in the kitchen. Throw your recipes up in the air and do you're own thing!

Paper Bullets [ART] -New Additions-

Underwater with time to kill ...

Battle of One

Concrete Jungle

Far, far away in a land that time can't change.

Selling the secret to the sun.

Static

Untitled

I Think I'm Addicted To Not Getting Enough Sleep

Even these dirty hands could be used as 

inspiration for a new piece.

Everything looks like art to these eyes.

Finally grasping the ability to tear myself away from my mac book, I laid in bed for a total of 15 seconds before ripping the covers off of me, swinging my legs to the left, popping up and turning the light on, singlehandedly swooping my mac book up off of my night stand, before I got to where I am right now. Here. Writing a blog. For you.

I've come to realize today that I am indefinitely addicted to not getting enough sleep. No matter how tired I am, I mentally persuade myself into staying up longer. In the event that I actually do make it to bed at a decent hour, it takes me no less than two hours to fall asleep, due to my thought process that is the equivalent to socks on a rug - enough friction to send electronic shocks down your body, dare I close my eyes.

Not that I'm in a rush to blog about anything in particular, I just felt compelled. Kind of like I felt compelled to eat those vegan nachos at 10pm last night. Bad idea. 

Speaking of bad ideas ... I have officially ended the Pickle debate. And you'll understand why after you read through this. I believe I left off with the night that I was being chased down the empty streets of New York by a Moth Man. The following night (and my last pickle, thank God), I had one last nightmare. You would think that multiple nights of pickle eating before bedtime would really mess with your head, causing multiple nightmares that will most likely leave you scarred for life if you were to ever encounter a trigger from one of your nightmares, or a pickle. Instead, my nightmare freakishly picked up exactly where it left off. Tell me you're not already terrified. And you haven't even heard the actual nightmare yet ...

As Moth Man was flapping his wings and getting closer and closer to me, I ran fast and faster. [The coolest part of this nightmare, is that I was wearing all black: black skinny jeans, a black tee, and a black leather jacket. How stealth of me.] I was terrified of Moth Man, for obvious reasons, but felt like I could really outrun him. We ran for hours. Most of the nightmare was just running, looking back, being unexplainably terrified, then more running, repeat, repeat. Then I remembered a critical tool that was in my pocket. A gun. I pulled out my gun. Turned around, and shot Moth Man with the angriest face I could make. Now that Moth Man is dead, I've ended my pickle eating before bed routine. Now Moth Man can never come back. Ever. Because I killed him. No more pickles.

Here's a few random thoughts that are on my mind [in no particular order]:

I engaged in a little small talk with a friend earlier about how the news reports falsities. Let me elaborate. The "news" on the news are not so much "news" at all. They are in fact stories that could potentially rope viewers in, mainly during dinner time, to get them interested. Then, not only does the ridiculousness stop there, but they insist on dragging it out for days, just to keep you coming back for more. I'm no scientist, but I'm pretty sure that Tiger Woods' affairs happens all over the world, every second of the day. Why does the media feel the need to drag it out for months, just because the guy can hit a golf ball and has a gig with Gatorade. Maybe this is just my big heart and the things I've seen with my own two eyes, but I think we, as a nation, can come up with a couple of things to talk about, rather than love affairs. Celebrity related stories should not be allowed on the news, unless it's a death/birth. But that's just my opinion. 

Have you ever wondered if every single person actually has an aura? In case you're unfamiliar with what an "aura" is, it is the glow of colors that surround a person. Some people feel that the colors reflect the inner soul of a person. I wish I had the ability to see people's aura's. I definitely feel a certain color on a daily basis, usually more than one color as the day progresses. (I sound ridiculous, I know.) But I'm never actually seen an aura. I guess some people feel intense emotion or feel a certain way physically, I just feel like a color. By the way, today I feel celeste, a very pale blue. I've been sleepy and napping all day, and kind of in a mellowed out mood. Definitely a change of pace for me.

I would like to make a list of all of the things that I see in one day. Then compare that list with a list of things that I remember from that day. Just to see if it would surprise me in either direction.

I am in serious need of a mental health day. If I could have just one mental health day, this is what my agenda would look like:

- Sleep late and wake up without an alarm clock. [Waking up naturally, when the body is done being fully rested is the healthiest way to wake up.]

- Take a shower, followed by a hot bath. [Lights off, candles lit, and mimosa included.]

- Go to the park/beach/ride my bike. Anything outdoors that will give me inspiration.

- Paint for hours off of my inspiration from activity listed above.

- Spend time with someone that I really enjoy the company of.

- Spend a little time writing.

- Paint some more.

I am easy to please. In fact, if you'd really like to impress me, take me to a park I've never been to before.  Or take me to an art exhibit or gallery. Or maybe take me to one of those indie film viewings they have have on the roof of a building in Brooklyn. [THAT, is pure romance to me.] Then you can take me out for a small dinner at a hole in the wall restaurant that I've probably walked by a hundred times, never looking twice at, but they have the best food. If you spend any more than $25-$30 on me on our date, then you've tried to hard. Why do guys feel like they have to go big to impress? Honestly, hand me a flower that you picked from a strangers garden, and tell me that's where you got it from, and you'll probably have me right there. 

Unfortunately, I do not have this worry. Boys simply do not want to date me. I blame it on living within the wrong demographic. 

Current Listen: Dance Dance Dance - Lykke Li   [Lykke is adorable, she really is, but she is definitely a strange bird. My friend introduced me to her music and, while I need to be in the right mood to listen to her, she's got a good thing going. Give it a spin!]

Pickled Nightmares

Put yer $ where yer mouth iz!

CRUNK-A-THON

My best friend, Ashley, and myself.

How terrifying.

In my last post, I filled you in on how my friends and I were filled with straight up skepticism about the old wives tail of how eating pickles before you go to bed gives you terrible nightmares. Last night, I ate [some of the best friggen] pickles, I brushed my teeth, and I went to bed. This is the state in which I woke up.

I was walking down the empty streets of New York. Seventh Ave. in Manhattan, mind you, basically a "main street" in NY, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the state. Now, we all know perfectly well that there is never, ever an empty street in New York. That itself was creepy. I felt some sort of presence behind me. I turn around with that typical horror movie kind of looking over your shoulder move. In the far distance, something was landing , like an airplane would land. Only it was a man ... with wings. As he landed, he was running and flapping his wings. He got closer, and I realized that a giant moth-man was chasing me. A MOTH MAN. Chasing me. Down an empty street of new york. Now I know this sounds nothing near nightmarish, but believe me when I say it was terrifying. His face looked kind of human, but he had big moth eyes. I was kind of afraid that he was going to bite holes in my clothes. [His teeth were vicious looking.] He looked like he was out to get me, and not in a "I'm just an innocent insect' kind of way.

Unfortunately, I woke up before the dream ended. But I'm determined to see if this was just a coincidence, or if this nightmare pickle debacle is actually true. On a side note, my friends who were in on the pickle debate also all had nightmares. I say we do this again and run the two out of three rule.

Tonight will be round two of pickles before bed. It's like self-torture, I'm not even kidding.

Current Listen: Kings and Queens - 30 Seconds To Mars [The drums in this songs are NUTS!!!!]

New Pieces in Paper Bullets [ART]

Mirage #3

Funny thing about this painting (and the other two like it). I found these oddly green colored folders in my basement. They were nice and thick, which is something I NEED when I paint. These folders came in this plastic box, and there were these thin, flat metal bars that ran through the opening of the folders, so it can sit upright in the box without falling & making a mess. So i deconstructed the folder, took the bar out, and it became my new favorite painting tool. It looks like a long blade, which I imagined would be perfect for smearing. So, I did just that. And I'm in love with how it came out. I could have done this all day ...

Mirage #1

Mirage #2

Distilled Romance
I experimented with some lace scraps that I found. I love the b&w image, and how the image itself isn't even the focal point.

Love is a foreign feeling.

Silent Echo

Pickle Juice

Animation at Lunch. 

[Lovely Day, Nolita]

Lower East Side babes. 

Dave's a stalker when he has his camera in his bands.

[My best friend Ashley.]

This weekend, I made it rain with oversized one hundred dollar bills, found my long lost friend that I haven't seen in eight years and somehow made my way to his apartment in the upper west side to talk and catch up at 4am, made my way into Brooklyn Sunday morning to buy pickles at Brooklyn Brine and eat them in the freezing cold with runny noses with my Brooklyn Brat Pack, almost started crying when the bro across from me on the L train got a violent bloody nose out of nowhere, found a bandana covered in scary, vicious looking zombies on it in my bag, and woke up with scratches all over my arms. I'm banking on the fact that I just had a killer weekend.

I've been noticing this weird trend lately. It's becoming "cool" to say that you have anxiety. Remember when people would listen to bands like My Chemical Romance, Jameson Parker, Dashboard Confessional, Thursday, From Autumn To Ashes and Matchbook Romance, because they can "totally relate" to the lyrics? It was cool to be emo for a minute, but quickly became a joke when bros started wearing black eyeliner. "That guy must listen to a lot of My Chem." Being someone who is unfortunate enough to actually have to deal with anxiety on a daily basis (over stupid things, mind you), I can tell you that it's not cool. Maybe having anxiety is the new emo, except you want to slit your wrists for other reasons. Maybe it's just me, but I've been hearing a lot of kids saying, "Yea man, I have really bad anxiety, that's why I'm being so weird." Or maybe you're just weird ...

After this [wreckless] weekend, I've realized that it's not necessarily necessary to shower, or even brush your hair on a daily basis. All day today, I've had friends, even random strangers telling me, "you're hair is really pretty", and "you're hair looks so hot". FYI, I haven't brushed my hair in two days. And I'm guilty of not even having a legit shower in almost 48 hours. Good to know I don't have to be hygienic to be a babe. I think I'm going to be less hygienic more often.

Today I went to Brooklyn Brine with my friends in Brooklyn to buy pickles. Our main reason was because we had a debate over the old wives' tale that if you eat pickles right before you go to sleep at night, you have terrible nightmares. [It has something to do with the acidity in them.] Being a group of spontaneous skeptics, and lucky for us, pickle lovers, we went pickle shopping to put this OWT to the test. Of course, we had to buy triple the pickles we actually needed, because we have the patience of a group of four year olds. Never had a better tasting pickle in my life. I will, of course, let you know if pickles really do bring on the nightmares after tonight.

Today I feel Aeneous, a bright, obnoxious shining bronze. There's no other way to describe me other than that color for this entire weekend. Put yer shades on.

Current Listen: Keep Yourself Warm - Frightened Rabbit

New Additions To Paper Bullets [ART]

Slipping Under

I painted this while I was talking to one of my incredibly close friends about life, and how I feel like I'm in this spot where I'm kind of stuck, it's not going up, and it's not going down. He told me to just kind of roll with it, thing's are always different on the inside than they are on the outside. As I was painting this, it looked like an octopus, stuck under a really rough current. All he could do is lay there until it all blows over, the

TENTive

This mimics an Aztec tent in some modernized form.

What it means to be free.

Unfinished painting. (Something I'm making for someone.)
Acrylics on charcoal iridescent stock.

I woke up today.

My first few strokes were intended to make a dark wave with colors intertwined. The result was an eyeball...

Another Day In Paradise

Precisely the current state of my life at the moment. 

And I don't hate it a bit.

 I'm currently writing this post for you all in the fetal position on my bed, due to an intense overdose of Tofutti ice cream. Who knew dairy free ice cream could be so painful afterwards? Maybe the fact that I was already currently nauseous should have been a slight inclination of what was to come.
Never. Again.

My apologizes for  the lack of meaty posts. Friday night was the beginning of my my body's attempt to fully shut down in slow motion over the course of six days (and still counting). I went to the emergency room on friday night (because that's every twenty five year old's place of choice to spend their friday night, isn't it?), with excruciating pain that was in fact so bad, that I could barely walk, stopping me in my tracks when I tried to be too cool and "walk it off". I know the anatomy of a human being about as well as I know the anatomy of a wild buffalo, so naturally, I thought I was either about to experience some sort of bodily implosion, or I was about to give birth via my love handle. Believe me when I tell you that anything felt possible at that moment.

So, there I laid on a stretcher in the hallway of a hospital, with my arm in some nurses grip as she mercilessly shoves an IV into my arm. I wanted to sing her praises when she told me that she was putting the pain killers in, via IV. That instantly changed from me wanting to pull her fingernails off one by one when she actually injected the pain killers. I lay there in shame, yelling, "My eyes! My eyes burn so bad!!!", flinging my free arm over my face. I peeked over at my sister, standing at the edge of my stretcher, looking completely and totally confused and perplexed. Like I was about to be, or should be, rolled off into a white padded room. "Do you want me to hold off on the rest?", the nurse asks, without pausing the injection of what felt like bleach, into my veins. "I don't know ... how much is left an how much are you supposed to give me?", I asked her, trying to eye up the syringe. "Ok, you're done.", she says with a smile. What is WRONG with that woman???

Let's make a long story short, because trust me when I tell you that you want to know nothing about the details. Like how my ultra sound somehow turned into an "internal" ultrasound. (The pain was near my pelvis, use you're own imagine to figure out how they got all internal on me...) And how I almost got walked in on by a little mexican cleaning man while I was trying to get dressed back into my clothes after my bodily violation of an ultra sound, and by trying to get dressed, I mean stumbling around with no pants on, while tangled up in my IV line. (Why they leave a doped up person on pain killers in the room alone is beyond me.) Regardless, I was able to leave there with a good laugh/story to tell. Of course, it wasn't this funny at the time. Then again, I also don't have eyeballs that feel like they're flaming from my face to P me off.

Aside from six days of nausea/abdominal pains that can kill a lumberjack, I've been spending time on the floor of my room painting .... and painting .... and painting. My stack of paintings is getting quite high. I've been giving them away just to make more room! Not that I ever like to see them go ...
I bought a ton of new paints, acrylics and watercolors that I've been abusing to the fullest extent of the painting law. Arrest me.

Here's some new additions to Paper Bullets. (Please ignore my DNA inspired sheets as the background.)

Color the era.

[Watercolors] 

You always look for a bigger bang ...

[Pink gun, got rough with the brush to make it look like "bullet holes"

with red/pink hearts in the center of them, and grey "smoke"

forming hearts and pretty things.]

Revelry

 

Letting the memories out ...

Tadpole

Today I feel Gridelin, a violet-grey hue. Kind of deep and somber, but still spiked with fun.

Current Listen: Phil Collins - Another Day In Paradise (Have you ever listened to this song and imagined it remixed? Someone please make my dreams come true...)