Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Well deserving

Big congratulations to IBPCommunity member C.E. Chaffin on his publication in today's Philadelphia Inquirer!

Paradigms By C.E. Chaffin

He is such a nice person and although attempts to comment on my blog - my videos and such make the pages load v slowly for some (I know, I know, but I did remove one from the front page the other day). :)

I appreciate him, his blog, and his talent. So congrats -
a fine placement.

Monday, July 24, 2006

random thoughts

I have had pretty close relationships with most of my patients - even had this patient that upsetted easily. when she did this, her family would call my cell and ask me to talk to her. I calmed her down and loved her v much. I now how a patient similar to her; she is in rehab because she fell and is now afraid/or needs assistance to walk. when she needs to get up to walk, they call me from my regular floor - she simply will not let anyone else help her, says that I am the only one who cares.

and I do care, v much, as I am sure others do. I just get so busy (esp during vitals) that I cannot get that extra minute to leave my floor. this made her cry the other day. sometimes I have to become hardened, try not to think of such things, and carry on with what I am in the middle of. when I finally got that extra minute, I found out that she fell again, and found myself in tears. I should of spent more time reassuring her that if she asked another to help - that person would take care of her the way I do. but if I had done so, she would question me, because she in fact did fall.

I need to organize my time better or perhaps be even harder that I try to be. I am tough enough or I thought I was, until today... now I do not know. today is another story that I do not care to share right now. xo

Thursday, July 20, 2006

August antipasto

today was a v long day (no need to detail that). I am in the mood for an august antipasto from Foreign Cinema. hmm... I should add some mediterranean olives to that order.

I just need one of those delivery boys on a bike, a jet plane, and a destination to any white beach that caters to the bluest of seas. oh and one of those cool beach hats! no, scratch the hat - make it a soft lounge chair.

I must mention that the delivery boy is not invited. ;)

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

I guess any establishment could make you wonder

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a late night note

this evening someone randomly entered the restroom in my flat, bent down, and sniffed michael's catbox. she then turned to me and said "Wow Cher, your catbox doesn't smell!" I think at that point, I stepped out of my own skin, and stood beside myself just to see my own reaction. I looked at her and said, "No, it does not." I then walked into my office and sat down. I have to wonder as I look back at it all - how the heck do I stay sane?


Friday, July 14, 2006

this and that

my friend pj (pjnights) and I talked until 3:30 am on the phone last night. we discussed BoZoO radio and how we both wanted to beat up Rg. ok - not beat up, but we did talk about what a great show they have going on over there. you know, some blogs and/or sites really make you feel good - BoZoO HomeGrown Radio being one. if you get a chance drop by and see what they have going on - Marcel Penn is just one of the great things they have added. BoZoO HomeGrown Radio

we announced the IBPC Poem of the Year! check it out here: The Versifier or read about our latest judge, David Biespiel here: IBPCcongrats and thank you to all poets!

last, but not least, go check out Tuche And Automaton it is a fun place to spend some time - we have some great artists like ann marie eldon, cocaine jesus, scott glassman, and more! ciao.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Winning Photo

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Just heard news that my photo (above) had the highest score at USA101's 22nd contest. I am so grateful. I won $1000.00 and I believe the photo on canvas. I had a feeling I had won, but wanted to wait for the administrator's letter.

Thanks to Ry who made me go out and shoot when I was not in the mood and to everyone who voted, and continues to support my work. Camera used was a Nikon D50 SLR, hand held zoom. I hope to continue my love for photography and perhaps make a few people smile while doing so. grazie.

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These Words Will Never Make Me Famous

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I have gathered and brought home photographs from places I have been. From San Francisco to New York. In fact, San Francisco is made entirely of memory - photographs of days when my life truly mattered. It is almost laughable at this point to say I have come further than ever – when I feel a sinking at times like stone to sea.

In reality, this city that I lie my head in, this arboretum and garden of unmarked graves is nothing more for me than just limbo, where I fight for air space, but never really breathe. I feel that I definitely belong to an appendage of people that became artists to release some sort of inner language that speaks in tongues, and the only way to describe the feeling is to attempt to put it to word on paper or in a preferred journal.

I have a gift made entirely out of train wrecks and circumstances, but I have not established it, or have initiated only fragments - the remaining delay leaving, shift against bristle, never really willing to tell the prodigy of ‘me’. Not that there is anything to tell, but some may implore to be at variance; some have blisters on the soles of their feet from walking beside me.

Maybe I am extinct, only a creation in my mind, constructed of a softness that falters during the changing season – the harrowing waters that hold chin to seedling; stones and landscapes that can never be found after the photograph burns.

At other times and in other spaces, I am a liar. I do not fabricate much, but I have been known to tell myself a story or two; I fool my effort into oblivion each time my lips refute my surroundings, each time I tell myself of a deeper love story that should never fall short. And after calamity, I carve an alter for a totem pole made from past lovers, fancy the color red over black, and dip the eyes. There above the plot of this city I stand back and respect my work – I close my eyes and imagine a draw between myself and others. I believe that the sky might look down and dry the colors or perhaps blur them with a future rain. I never was one for calling on the names or retrieving paper notes from my backpack, to squall in the goodbyes that grew.

It is possible that this is not lament or a stone that I expect to throw. It is also wise to consider the lengths of bamboo that have covered the path that I once held dear. But to a writer, maybe it means a way of condensing the view, if only for a moment so he or she might feel the tightening of chest to swallow, or on a related note – the passing of an era. In any case I do not weep solely and sometimes not at all. And I do not engage in hysterical laughter, (even though it is said to cleanse the psyche). I do nothing at all, but write, and these words mean nothing to most.



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